Vacations, Condoms and Mini-Millers
by Safui
Summary: Nick, Jess, Winston and Schmidt have returned from their vacation in Hawaii, but at some point the affects of the sunshine have to wear off. How long can Nick and Jess keep the smiles on their faces before things take a turn for the worst?
1. Chapter 1

"Come on Nick, please."

"Jess, no, for the hundredth time, I don't need to lock my suitcase. No one's gonna want anything in there anyway."

"I know, but just to be safe. I don't want you wearing the same filthy ensemble for five days."

"Not that it's much of a change, anyway." Winston interrupts, planting himself down beside Nick.

"Hey man? A little respect?"

"Winston, come on. Nick may be lazy and unmotivated but he is not a slob."

"He's kind of a slob."

"Ladies, Gentlemen, Nick." Schmidt appears from his room carrying an A4 notepad.

Nick raises both his eyebrows, slightly astounded by all the 'Nick Hate' and opens his mouth to defend himself, but is swiftly cut short by Schmidt.

"I have compiled a checklist to make sure that we are as prepared for this vacation as much as possible."

"I thought going on vacation meant we didn't need lists." Winston retorts.

"And where in the laws of vacationing does it state that. Do you know? Of course you don't, because it doesn't exist there."

"You didn't give me a chance to-."

"Okay, now what I need you three to do is make sure that you have readily packed the stated items and are prepared to leave at 6am sharp tomorrow morning."

Nick groans audibly, throwing his head backwards.

"Is there a problem, Nicholas?"

"I don't get why we have to leave so damn early. You said if we agreed to come to Hawaii with you that it'd be relaxing."

"I'm sorry; this is coming from a guy who leaves for planes home for Christmas every year at 4am?" Jess teases, swiping her hand playfully over his. She interlocks fingers with him and plants a light kiss on his cheek, to which he responds by kissing her tenderly on her rose-red lips.

Now it's Schmidt's turn to groan.

"You two had better tone down the lovey-dovey nonsense when we leave tomorrow. If either of you gets mono I'm not letting you use my health insurance."

Jess smiles against Nick's lips, breathing softly onto them, and finishes with one last peck.

"The list, Schmidt?" Winston says impatiently. "You know I gotta go see Daisy before we go. A man's gotta get a release before he goes without sex for five days."

"Yes well whenever Anastasia and Christian are finished sucking the life out of each other."

"Man, I told you that book was a bad idea." Winston directs to Nick.

"Fifty shades of 'why?' more like." Jess responds, her head resting on Nick's shoulder.

"Onto the list that I so gracefully prepared, using the finest quality ink, from the finest quality of pen-"

"Schmidt!" They impatiently exclaim in unison.

"Okay, okay, I get it. You all have sexual needs that you must tend to, while I wallow alone in my cocoon of melancholy, while my true love loves another."

"Okay I'm out." Winston says. He is promptly out the door, almost leaving a dust outline of where he once was before Schmidt can react. He stands, mouth slightly agape at his roommate's sudden departure.

"Not to worry. At least we'll be conscious of our necessities for tomorrow." Schmidt gestures to the two, including himself in the little triangle motion his finger is making.

"Hooray for us." Jess mutters sarcastically into Nick's ear.

"As I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted, I have compiled a list-"

"Yeah, yeah, list and ink we got all that." Nick signals for him to speed up before he too disappears and locks himself into his room.

"Very well. Jessica Day, as you are a female and have been for quite some time." Jess raises an eyebrow. "I assume you have tampons and sanitary towels and painkillers et cetera, for when, or if the red devil appears suddenly."

"I'm sure Honolulu will cater for feminine hygiene products, Schmidt."

Ignoring her remark, he continues.

"As for you Nicholas, you should still have those condoms I loaned you a few weeks back. I assure you have _some_ left."

Jess bites her thumb, a wide grin graces her features as Nick squeezes her hand in his.

He clears his throat of any laughter that may escape.

"Sure do, pal."

"Well I'm glad to hear that, because our budget does not account for protecting against any mini-Millers. Which is probably for the best in case the hotel refrains from sound proofing the walls"

"Who says it'll be confined to the hotel room, Schmidt?" Nick smirks.

"Disgusting, disgusting human beings. Have you no shame?"

"None that I'm aware of." Jess chirps proudly.

"Are you done yet, Schmidt? She's making it very difficult to concentrate on all that yammer coming out of your pie-hole."

"You're weak."

"Not gonna argue with him, Miller you are pretty weak." Jess purrs, tracing circles on Nick's arm.

"When did this become about me?"

Schmidt rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed at his roommate's indiscreet infatuation with each other.

"Fine, if you two aren't going to take this seriously, I'll leave. But don't come crying to me when you forget clean underwear. Have fun eating each other's faces off. Schmidt: out."

"What an idiot." Nick mumbles.

"Heard that!"

"You were supposed to!"

"I feel kind of bad for him." Jess says sympathetically. "He did plan this for us, the least we can do is _try _to make him happy."

"What are you suggesting?" Nick responds.

"Maybe if we hold off on the no-pants parties-."

"Sex, Jess. It's called sex."

"Right, that. Maybe if we hold off on it until we get there."

"Is this about the condoms, Jess?"

She smiles at him, as innocently as she possibly can, widening her eyes to such an unusually large scale, he can only comply with her. Not only because he finds 'googly eyes kinda hot', but also because he knows if they torture themselves for a whole forty-eight hours at most, the sex will be just as incredible.

"Okay, no sex tonight."

"Woah, slow down there. Sex doesn't have to be _all _intercourse, Nicholas."

And now her smile has transformed into a devious little pout. Which is totally not helping him in any way. So he acts on the next best idea that he's had all day, besides the choice to let Jess make the French Toast, (he cannot suffer anymore burnt pinkies), and swings her up from the couch, pulling her into his arms in a cradling fashion, resulting in a small, light giggle from her as she tugs at the collar of his shirt, and disappears into his bedroom.

_And he's pretty damn sure that last condom won't last._


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: This chapter is more of an in-between so that not too much is forgotten as the story progresses. It is significantly shorter than my usual work, but I will promptly update it with a more elongated one before Monday. Also, thank you all for the lovely reviews! For me, the reader's opinion is most important and I am driven by how you all feel about the story, so keep 'em coming :D**

**Disclaimer : I do not own New Girl or any of the characters. **

Arising at 6am benefits no-one except for Schmidt, who is showered, 'groomed' and dressed in a beige fedora, an unbuttoned blue shirt, with Hawaiian print flowers along the sides, and black quarter-length pants. The get-up is a blatant change from his dress coats and slacks, not less the fact that he is wearing open toed sandals. Yet, he is blissfully unaware of just how asinine and out-of-place he looks. Jess and Winston are far too tired to make any sort of remark and just sit at the kitchen counter, expressing their disapproval in facial expressions. Nick has pretty much fallen asleep at the fridge. Either that or he's exceptionally fascinated by the half-tub of Schmidt's 'special' cream cheese and has difficulty pulling himself away.

"Nick?" Jess says softly.

No response.

"Nick! Wake up!" She adds in an abrupt clap for a little more emphasis.

"Hmm- what? Did we win the game?!"

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry okay. Nick Miller is not built to function before ten."

"Here, have some coffee."

"Yeah and drink it fast. We're leaving in twenty minutes and I will not be delayed because Nicholas didn't take my advice and get an early night."

"Neither did she!" Nick defends, pointing an accusing finger at Jess. She swallows the rest of her orange juice promptly enough to avert herself.

"Hey! I'm used to being up at this time. Plus, you can't tell me we didn't have a good enough reason."

Nick smirks, and Jess returns with the same. Schmidt takes one look at both of them and frowns.

"You did not."

A tired giggle escapes Jess and she quickly clamps a hand over her mouth to contain herself.

"No Schmidt. No we did not."

"Are you lying to me?"

"He's actually telling the truth."

Schmidt narrows his eyes.

"Well. You are two grown adults, I'll trust your word. But keep this in mind, Nicholas, We have to ration ourselves and not give in to such premature urges. Rubbers don't come cheap abroad. I am hellbent on keeping this budget on par with the cash in our pocket. I will not be responsible for any debt you run yourself into."

And on that note, he retreats back into his room.

"So were you lying or?" Winston questions. Nick takes the stool beside him and gives him a forceful pat on the back.

"Sure was." He takes a long gulp of his coffee and nods his head. "It's good coffee."

"Careful you don't scald your throat, man. It can give your cancer."

Jess throws herself in the middle of the two, blocking Nick's ears. "Don't mention the C-word. One scare was bad enough."

Nick pushes her aside.

"I'm fine, Jess."

"Fifteen minutes!" Schmidt clamors from his room.

* * *

The airport, or 'airp', as Schmidt and his douchebaggery self calls it, is of no great novelty. As if getting through TSA isn't bad enough as it is, Nick finds himself being searched once he lets the metal detector go off, three times. The security woman eventually lets him through, probably seeing no possible threat from a guy in a flannel and loose jeans with scruffy hair and tired eyes.

"I promise it'll all be worth it once we get there." Jess says comfortingly, wrapping an arm around his waist and resting her head on his upper-arm.

"Just don't make me sit beside Schmidt for five hours."

"I wouldn't even make Schmidt sit beside Schmidt." She teases.

Nick can't help but give himself a mental pat on the back for managing to find a girl as amazing as Jess. While he adores her loveable, caring side, he also appreciates that she isn't one-hundred percent innocent. She can come out of her bedroom in the morning, dressed in a colorful skater-shaped dress, her hair falling over her shoulders in long, dark, cascading curls, wearing the brightest smile, and still have the ability to dish out the right amount of sass if necessary, even if sassy is the last word one would use to describe Jess. He also loves that she can come out of her room dressed the complete opposite; her matching pajama sets, bunny slippers and unkempt hair, without a touch of make-up and he can feel the same way he does about her when she does make an effort. His love runs deep.. In fact, the love he has for her is so deep that it scares him slightly. Never in his life has he been so _comfortable _in a relationship. Heck, he doesn't even have to acknowledge it as a relationship to people. They're the kind of couple you just _know_ are a couple at first glance. The four years he's waited for the day he can embrace her in his arms when she comes home, the day that he can sweep her off her feet and guide her across the dance-floor, dancing to slow songs in a totally not-so-slow manner, those four years were totally worth the wait.

"Nick. Did you not hear the announcement?"

"Huh?"

"Come on you clown, our gate's open." She smiles sweetly, taking him by the hand, pulling him along to catch up with Winston and Schmidt.

Definitely worth the wait.


	3. Chapter 3

"One day I'll own that company." Schmidt growls through gritted teeth. "Then they'll feel the repercussions of misplacing such valuable goods."

"Schmidt, you spent two-hundred dollars on Calvin Klein and Armani underwear. That does not make them valuable goods, that makes you a douchebag and two-hundred and ten dollars poorer." Nick responds tiredly.

"Two-hundred and ten?" Jess questions, brushing her bangs aside.

"The first two hundred went to some big-named business that thinks they're better than us that Schmidt can't help but support, the other ten is for when we jar him the second we get back to the loft."

Schmidt rolls his eyes. "Well sorry for having taste, Nicholas."

"Winston what is with the dinner plates on your eyes? You look like a black Arnold Schwarzenegger." Nick asks, addressing the oversized glasses Winston is sporting.

"Just adding to the mojo baby." He declares proudly, a wide grin spread across his face.

"Well take 'em off man, you don't wanna be arrested in Hawaii for conspiracy harassing women through a tinted barricade."

"Are you calling me a predator?"

Jess giggles.

"I paid for your soda on the plane; just remember that before you go dissing my style." Winston defends, pointing his index finger towards Nick in an accusing manner.

"Whatever, let's just get a cab before tiredness takes over and we end up tearing each other's heads off." Nick suggests. The four trail off towards the exit, lugging their cases loudly behind them.

* * *

"Sorry sir, last cab for three hours." The tanned, surly driver informs the group from the tinted windows.

"And there are only three seats."

"Aren't there like buses or something?" Nick says, squinting in the early Hawaiian sun. Winston stands beside him, pursing his lips and considers the dilemma.

"What if Jess sat on your lap, Nick?"

"What am I, five?" Jess defends.

"It's just a suggestion."

"What kind of airport has scheduled cabs?"

"How about Schmidt gets Jess back to the hotel & then you guys can call a cab from reception?"

"Sounds plausible." Nick claps abruptly and takes hold of Jess navy polka-dotted suitcase. "Let's get going."

"Wait, you mean we're already splitting up twenty minutes in? Why can't we just find a bus station and go as a group?"

Nick pauses, the suitcase only halfway in the trunk. His eyes wash over with sympathy for Jess when he sees the dismal expression on her face. To Jess, this vacation is supposed to make up for all the lost family vacations she experienced following her parents' divorce. He approaches her, smiling sweetly, and takes her into his arms and pulls her towards him. He looks down into her bright blue eyes, two sapphires twinkling in the daylight, and widen as they meet his.

"I know you wanted us to spend every second of this holiday as a group and I promise we will." Nick says reassuringly, while Winston makes a cut-throat gesture in response. Nick takes no notice. "But for now we just need to make one exception."

Jess half-smiles, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

"You look silly in those shorts, Miller." Her voice, while husky, is laced with her normal Jess-like innocence.

"It's still better than Schmidt's choice of apparel."

"Hmm..." She side eyes Schmidt, who is standing with a hand perched on his left hip in a disapproving fashion.

"I'll give you that."

Jess runs her finger down along Nick's jaw-line, her eyes now fixated on his lips.

"You're lucky I love you." She whispers with a teasing smile, before finally closing the gap between them. He lifts her slightly, bringing one hand around her waist. She fists gently at his hair, much to Schmidt's discomfort. They part lips, only for Nick to finish up with a light peck.

"Why can't we just go together and they can come afterwards." Jess whispers, resting her head on his chest, running her hand up and down his side. He can feel her warm breath on his neck, slightly breathless. He places his finger under her chin and tilts her head up to look at him. His eyes are awash with a faint hint of allure.

"Because if you and I are in a cab alone, I won't be able to keep my hands off of you." He grins and kisses her forehead. Jess lets out a wanting sigh, both oblivious to the fact that Schmidt is in earshot.

"Whenever you two are ready." He groans.

"I'll see you back at the hotel, okay?"

Jess nods, her hand still balled into a fist on his chest. He smiles and turns back to finish loading up the trunk.

To some it may seem strange; a grown man yearning to always be with his girlfriend. To never let his mind clear constant thoughts of her. To others, it may seem poetic. That all Nick wants to do is hold Jess in his arms, rocking her to sleep as he plays big spoon, and she, little. Being alone with his own thoughts usually results in him wanting to run back to her. So even something as miniscule as taking different means of transport to get to a hotel whereby they'll be sharing a room for five days anyway is extraordinarily difficult. He slams the trunk shut and holds the door to the backseat open for her, admiring how gracefully she moves. Her hair is still perfect. The curls that bounce at the tips have not been disarrayed despite her falling asleep on his shoulder on the plane during turbulence. He gives her a benevolent smile and goes to join Winston at a vending machine by the exit.

"You know it won't last, right?"

"What are you talking about Winston?"

Winston retrieves his candy bar and rips it open, taking a generous bite from it.

"This honeymoon phase." He replies, his mouth half-full.

"Oh come on."

"I know you, man. You don't do well when all this romantic stuff ends."

"Oh well pardon me for being romantic in a _relationship_." Winston takes a lengthy pause. Nick watches as the cab makes its way out of the airport and he sees Jess' outline looking back at him. He makes out her heartsick smile and overwhelming guilt washes over him. He shoves his hands into his pockets and rocks back and forth.

"What I'm saying is." Winston finally says, swallowing the remainder of the mush that once was a solid candy bar. "All this 'I never want to let you go' crap can't last. It defies so many laws."

"Laws?"

"Unwritten laws."

"Enlighten me Winston."

"Eventually, you guys are gonna wake up one morning in some suburban house, three kids and Jess will probably be thirty pounds heavier."

"Woah-!" Nick jumps in, ready to defend his girlfriend, but he is quickly interrupted.

"And you'll both be sick of the sight of each other. Somehow everything that goes wrong will be your fault: the kids being late for school, the car breaking down, the oven going up in flames."

"I think you're getting a little ahead of time."

"Really? Time flies, Nick."

"I have got nothing to worry about."

"I think you have something to worry about."

* * *

"What do you mean the room's double-booked?" Nick exclaims.

"I mean someone else also booked the same room." Schmidt replies, monotone.

"I caught that, thanks."

"So what does this mean?" Jess chimes in, popping her head in between Nick and Schmidt's shoulders. Nick glances down at her.

"It means we have two single beds instead of one double." He explains.

"So what's the problem?" Winston asks. He is sitting comfortably in one of the beige leather chairs in the lobby of the plush hotel Schmidt has booked. It's probably the only time they come to respect his work and the income he gets from it.

Nick shoots Winston a warning glare. "You know damn well what the problem is." Winston smiles mischievously back at him.

"What _is_ the problem?" Jess asks. Nick looks at the two guys and then at her. He pulls her aside and whispers in her ear to explain.

"_Ohhh.._ But we can just have sex in the single bed." She says a bit too loudly, drawing some unimpressed stares from families with young children sitting in the same area.

Nick makes his turtle face and takes the key-card from Schmidt, clearly in no mood to be asked to leave the lobby for indecent public behaviour. "Let's go, Jess."

"Is that an agreement?"

He takes her by the hand, pulling her along behind him.

"But what about our suitcases?" Jess adds, not wanting her adorably decorated case to be left in the hands of a not-so-trustworthy bell boy.

"The suitcases can wait. We'll see you guys later." He vociferates back to a disgruntled Schmidt and Winston. He frantically pushes at the elevator button, repeating a hectic chain of 'come on'-s and 'hurry up'-s. Once he finally hears the 'ding', he wastes no time in swinging Jess in front of him and pulls her in for their second passionate kiss in Hawaii.

"Someone's excited." She smiles as their lips collide and their tongues dance lustfully in one another's mouths.

"Oh you have no idea." He breathes, pushing the button labelled '7'. He lifts her up and brings her closer to the wall of the elevator. She wraps her legs around his waist. "Not in here, Nick." She giggles as he traces kisses down along her jaw line and onto her neck. She pushes his lingering hands onto the small of her back, hesitant of being raunchy in such a public place.

"Not in here." She repeats, though she wants so badly for it to be in here.

The elevator stops at the seventh floor and the doors open, causing Jess to start with the fear of being caught. They are met with an empty hallway with a beige carpet, the same as the chairs in the lobby and an assortment of floral arrangements on mahogany side tables. He drops her and then picks her up again in a cradling fashion, boring brown eyes deeply into her stormy blue eyes.

"Room 703. This is where the magic's gonna happen." Nick chuckles. Jess wraps both arms around his neck, nestling her head in the crook of his neck.

"Shut up and take me there then, you clown."


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello friends. So yes I posted chapter 3 yesterday, but I never kept my promise with posting that, so I decided to put up two to compensate :) This is pretty much ALL sex and I promise the ending is not the end. Chapter 5 won't be up for another three days or so because of school and I'm running low on ideas (my best ideas come in class), so apologies again! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own New Girl or the characters.**

Nick fumbles with getting the key card into the slot, Jess still hanging by his neck. He forces the thick metal handle down and pushes the door open with his back. The room is spacious, a nice sized flat-screen is displayed in the corner of the room, a coffee table with two lounge chairs on either end, a dresser equip with the hotel's breakfast, lunch and dinner menu, not different from any other hotel. And, just as they've been expecting, two single beds with cream sheets and maroon throw pillows are laid out side by side. Nick huffs.

"Window bed or wall bed?"

"Does it really matter?" She replies almost angrily.

"Right."

Nick throws Jess across the nearest bed and crawls on top of her, taking in the sweet scent of her Marc Jacobs perfume. The same perfume he had bought for her last Christmas. He traces over her lips with his thumb and lowers down, kissing her a little gentler than in the elevator. She wraps her arms around his neck, breathing heavily. The kiss is slow. Too slow for Jess' liking. She grinds softly against him and throws her head back as he begins planting soft pecks down her jaw-line. He runs his tongue slowly down her neck. She moans readily, clasping her hands together behind him and arches her body upwards. He takes pride in hearing her breathing lapse every time he puts pressure on sensitive points on her flushed skin, burning with want.

"God Nick."

He wraps an arm around her and pulls her up onto her knees facing him. He pulls her back in, both holding tightly onto one another as he buries his head in her neck and nibbles gently at her skin as the kisses get even more passionate. She can do nothing but have her mouth drop and her eyes roll back. Sam was good at this, but he wasn't Nick good. Nick hits areas that Sam probably hadn't even known existed. In fact, he is hitting areas that Jess had no idea about. The heavenly rushes of pleasure cause her breath to catch further. She closes her mouth and swallows, preparing herself to respond with something that would give her control over the situation, but Nick is promptly back on her lips, letting his hands wander as they please, between the buttons of her turquoise blouse. He flicks open one of them, making the thread snap and the button cascades onto the end of the bed. He tucks his finger in between the underlying buttons, forcefully tugging the buttons off to the end.

"This is my favourite shirt!" She exclaims, examining the nubs of thread from where the buttons once were.

"We'll get them sewn back on." He responds, pulling his grey t-shirt over his head and throwing it on one of the chairs.

"What the hell." Jess sighs. She grabs both sides of her blouse and rips the top button off, letting the fabric fall delicately around her hips. She moves herself up, putting her knee between his legs. He tangles his hands in her thick brown hair, finishing off their pre-sex make-out session. His tongue hits hers and she gently bites his bottom lip as they part. Amelia had done the same thing, but whatever it is about Jess, Nick finds himself to be more than completely comfortable. She takes in a gulp of air once they part. He pushes Jess underneath him, hovering over her and cups one of her breasts, which are inconveniently covered by her white laced bra.

"Would you like me to unhook it for you, Nicholas?" She teases, biting down on her bottom lip, her hair sprawled in all directions across the pillow. He grins tediously and she reaches back, undoing the clasp and slides the straps down her arms and throws it off of her, never breaking eye contact with him. And there she lays, completely naked from the waist up. He smiles, taking in the sight of her flawless ivory skin and her lean frame. She bends her knee beside him as he plants kisses around her perk breasts, taking his time with reaching her most sensitive area. He keeps his free hand wrapped around her, not wanting to miss out on any part of her.

"Nick I did not have you carry me in here for you to play good cop." She complains, squirming underneath him. He obliges, lowering his mouth over her nipple and nibbles gently. She clamps down harder on her bottom lip and grasps onto either side of the sheets. He stops and looks up to find her skin flushed and her eyes washed over with arousal.

"Oh gosh. Yes, that works." She gasps. He resumes on the other side, running and flicking his tongue over her areola, smiling when he hears her subtle moans in response. Once again, he nibbles gently, drawing one more "God, Nick!" before he doesn't think he can hold himself much longer. She props herself up on her elbows, eyes sparkling with desire. Her once perfect curls are now one frizzy, tangled mess from the abrupt collision with the rough hotel pillows. He doesn't delay in taking off his ridiculous shorts that Schmidt had so kindly laid out for him. Jess frowns playfully, nagging at the waistline of his boxer shorts, his raging erection clearly seeking attention.

"I don't like these either."

"At your request, my lady." He declares in a bad English accent.

She crinkles her nose up and shuts her eyes.

"Please don't do that voice. Voices are my thing."

"Got it."

He slips them off and kicks them from the end of his ankles, presenting Jess with a not-so-ridiculous exhibition. She tilts her head to one side and smiles brightly.

"Better." She nods.

Putting aside the playful attitude the two shares, Jess reaches out and takes him in her hand, pumping slowly. She bites her lip once again and stares up at him, widening her eyes to further frustrate him. A devious smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

"Do you like this, Nicholas?" She asks, her voice deep and husky. He groans, shutting his eyes tightly. Staring back into hers is probably not the best idea, seeing as she's so good at making it last shorter than it needs to be. He places his hand over hers, stopping her.

"Jess, please, this isn't porn. I can't last that long with you doing all that stuff."

"Oh I see, you can dish it out but you can't take it." She winks, loosening her grip. He kisses her once more and meets his eyes with her. "Please, for the love of god, be quiet."

Jess leans back, satisfied with the control she has over him and without warning, he pulls her black skirt down over her legs. He traces the band of her panties and rubs the inside of her thigh.

"Christ Nick if I'm not allowed to tease then neither are you." She moans. He pauses, letting his hand rest in the same spot, hovering over the curve of the fabric.

"Put your hands over your head." He demands.

"What?"

"Put. Your. Hands. Over. Your. Head." He repeats.

Her eyes are fixated on him. She doesn't move, and he is having none of it. He darts upwards and takes her by the wrists, placing her hands across each other on the wall.

"Trust me, Jess."

She gulps and then nods. She has been in bed with Nick so many times and never once has he been so demanding. For once, he's finally letting his fantasies ride out in front of him. She feels the heat radiating from between her legs. Assertive Nick is extremely arousing, and he is about to find that out. He reaches underneath the fabric of her panties and almost flinches at how wet he finds her to be. So much for being in control. He wastes no more time and pulls the laced barrier from her and delves head first between her legs. She tenses up as he begins running his tongue along her opening, feeling the heat from her. He feels his erection grow harder. He wants so badly to be inside of her, but her best interests are at hand.

"Fu-!" Jess yelps, unable to finish her sentence. She arches her back towards him, grinding her teeth to prevent her from yelling out too loud. After all, she _is_ in control. He puts pressure on her clitoris while simultaneously thrusting his tongue inside of her. She feels flushes of electricity waver through her senses.

"Jesus Christ, Nicholas, are you trying to get it out the other end or something?!" she cries, trying to play it cool, which is so obviously failing at. He is unsure what is making her so stubborn.

"Just give in, Jess. I've seen you play submissive before."

She takes in another elongated sigh as he slows to a stop, letting her gather her sanity.

"Fuck it, Nick, just get inside of me." She begs, pulling him down to her by the neck. "We have bags waiting for us downstairs."

"Hey now, no need to insult Schmidt and Winston." He smirks.

"God, Miller." She grabs hold of his penis, causing him to start and pulls him closer to her opening.

"I swear to God if you start toying with that thing."

"Wow Jessica, I've never seen you so needy before."

She glares at him.

"And put your hands back over your head."

She rolls her eyes and obeys him, sliding closer down towards him. The apples of her cheeks are painted red with ardour. He winks at her.

"Atta girl."

"Don't ever say that again."

He chuckles.

"Come on!"

"Right, sorry."

He takes hold of his shaft and places it at the entrance, swiftly feeling how she throbs and how much more wet she has become. He thrusts inside of her, grunting as he quickly picks up the pace. He glides in and out of her effortlessly, drawing a string of muffled swear words and moans upon each thrust.

"Oh god, yes Nicholas!" She gasps, tipping her head back. She lets her hands drop from their position. Nick stops and looks at her, averting his vision towards them. He nods, directing her to put them back up. She is _so_ not in control. She returns them and widens her eyes.

"Better?"

Nick smiles and starts up again. He thrusts harder and deeper, hitting directly off her g-spot each time.

"Fuck, yes." She groans.

Hearing Jess swear is more than arousing for him. He feels himself losing control of his own body and slows down to prolongate the experience, not that this would be the last one. He has five days to do the same things with her over and over again, but he is treating this like it's the first time for the both of them.

"Come on Nick, for god's sake you can't build me up that much and then slow down. Are you insane?" She cries, extremely out of breath. "It doesn't matter if you come before me; just finish me off with that impressive tongue of yours." She bites at her lip and runs her hand down along his back.

"It wouldn't be the first time." She adds.

Nick impulsively grabs Jess and sits her on top of him. She half-falls onto his shoulders, her hands falling over his neck.

" Let's do this your way." He sits her down onto his erection, thrusting slightly into her. "Now you can do some of the work." He winks.

Jess, with her deer-in-the-headlights look, realises the situation and narrows her eyes and wraps her legs around him. "Let's do this _my _way then."

She moves her body up and down on top of him, while he blocks his own moans by trailing hot, passionate kisses over the sensitive areas on her neck for a second time, adding to the experience for her.

"Oh god, oh god!" She trails off, throwing her head back, the weight of her hair fighting with gravity. She takes one hand out from behind his neck and places it on the edge of the bed, half lying out across him. She moves herself faster, feeling her impending orgasm growing hard and fast as he continues to fill her, hitting all the right places. Her moans become faster and closer together. He feels her walls begin to tighten around him, as he too begins to feel the full force of his own. Having her moving around him, so fast and delicately, that feeling can only last so long before he loses it. And he so desperately wants her to lose it before him.

"Stop holding back Jess." He grunts, taking hard thrusts inside of her. She brings her head back up to meet him and crashes her lips onto his as she feels her body shudder and resist her own resistance. Her orgasm washes over her, making her cry out with pleasure as she falls back on top of him, her head resting on his shoulder. She rides out the waves while he feels her walls tighten more around him, causing him to follow suit.

"Fuck, Jessica." He groans, taking four more deep thrusts.

"God." She sighs into the crook of his neck, her nails digging into his shoulder blades as the last of her orgasm takes over. He falls back onto the bed, taking her with him. She giggles, placing one hand on his chest, tracing circles with her finger.

"That was uh-mazing." She grins, looking up at him. He is panting, one hand placed behind his head and the other playing with the tips of Jess' hair.

"You can say that again."

"That was uh-."

"Not literally, Jess." He interrupts.

"So I guess the single beds weren't such a disaster, now that we've taken them for a test drive." She jokes, sitting up to examine her surroundings. The hastiness of the earlier events had made her ignore the standard of the room.

"Plus we have a flat screen." She gestures towards the T.V.

"Yeah I don't think we have anything to worry about." Nick winces, remembering his conversation with Winston at the airport. Jess smiles lovingly and pulls one of the bed sheets over the two, covering all the essentials.

"I'm such a diva in bed."

Nick is still panting, but manages to let his words come out somewhat clearly.

"You're a beautiful diva." He kisses her forehead and pulls her in closer.

"I could lie here all day. The sex may have cured jet lag but it doesn't cure sleepiness." She yawns, tucking herself in under his arm. She closes her eyes and wraps her arm across his torso. Nick looks down at her, her breath making the hairs on his chest dance slightly. He's amazed by how quickly she can go from being so dominant and demanding to sweet and innocent, as though she had never sworn in front of him. And in seeing how peaceful she looks, lying there beside him, he decides that it's probably best not to mention that they forgot a condom.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer : I do not own New Girl or the characters. **

She wakes up, a familiar arm slung loosely around her side. The room is dimmed out, the only light being the faint glint of sunlight coming through the translucent curtains. She reaches across him and picks up her phone.

*3 Messages* *2 Voice-mails*

She unlocks her it and taps into messages, rubbing her eyes once they are hit by the blaring flash of her home-screen.

'Where are u two?' - Winston B

'We've got an itinerary to keep, don't make me evoke your relationship privileges.' - Schmidt

'Plz come out of your room, Schmidts using fancy words to list all the agreements ur breaking.' -Winston B

* * *

Jess smiles. They could be such overprotective parents sometimes.

"I'm gonna regret this." She sighs, turning down the volume on her phone before playing the messages so as not to awaken her sleeping cohort.

"Did she answer?" One voice echoes. "Does it look like she answered? Hey Jess, uh, I know you and Nick are gettin' busy and all but, uh, if you wouldn't mind getting your bags and stuff so we can go eat, that'd be great. Stop, Schmidt get out of my face. She didn't answer!" The line becomes muffled, to which she assumes Winston has now covered his phone with his hand. "It went to voice-mail you idiot. I don't care if you need to soak your toe-nails. Schmidt I- Schmidt. SCHMIDT! GET OUT OF MY CASE I DO NOT HAVE A FOOT FILER. Okay, I gotta go. Call me back when you get this."

The other is from Schmidt. Jess decides it's best not to play a duplicate of Winston's message, just with a lot more complaining and ostentatious words and puts her phone back down on the dresser. She turns on her side and runs the back of her hand along Nick's stubble, the exciting feel of his scratchy skin on hers. She plants a single, tender kiss on his lips. He stirs in response, but doesn't wake. She frowns and begins dotting little pecks on the perimeter of his face, not stopping until she hears him grunt and finally crack open one eyelid.

"You done smearing lipstick all over my face?" He grins, looking at the angelic face boring her eyes into his.

"My lipstick's been faded off since we arrived."

"Oh... Then I guess they just have that natural alluring red glow." He stretches. She scoffs and thumps the side of his chest.

"Alright calm down Romeo."

"What time is it?"

"Just past seven."

"How long were we out?"

"I don't remember anything since we got here." She smirks. "But damn am I sore."

Nick beams in response and leans against the bed frame.

"I did my job right then."

She sits up onto her knees. Her hair is disheveled, the rays of the late sun shining over one side of her face.

"We should call them."

Nick raises an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"We just woke up. Don't you wanna relax?"

"I'm pretty relaxed as it is. I think we can afford to skip out on another three hours of nothing."

Nick purses his lips, watching as Jess picks herself up off the bed, wincing as a shooting pain tunnels between her legs.

"What did you do to me?" She teases. She grabs her phone and taps back into contacts.

"You hungry?"

"Depends on the context." Nick winks.

Jess cocks her head taking in the innuendo. She picks his shorts up from the ground and flings them at him.

"Food, Nicholas. Food."

* * *

The four stand in the middle of Winston and Schmidt's room. Not too different from Nick and Jess's.

"Seven p.m.? You call us at seven p.m. Four hours after _we_ called _you_. What if Winston and I had been taken by rambunctious Hawaiian youths. What if you two were our only outlet for help? Would it matter? No, because neither of you have the sense to answer your cellular devices."

Nick scrunches up his face, his eyes vacant.

"Cellphone, Schmidt."

"That is not the point. Have you two got any idea of just how _worried_ we were?"

"We?"

Schmidt raises a hand to interrupt Winston's argument. Nick holds his thumb and index finger under his chin. Jess stands beside him, close enough so that their shoulders brush. Her arms are folded and one knee is bent in front of the other, her foot tapping impatiently.

"Well look Schmidt. We're sorry, but to be fair, nowhere on your little itinerary does it say that sex is prohibited."

Schmidt takes a step towards Nick, poking his finger into his chest.

"Now listen here Nicholas. I will not be spoken to in such a demanding tone in my hotel room."

Nick chortles, taking one long look at Schmidt.

"I'm sorry, are you my fourth grade teacher all of a sudden?"

"Man, I hated Mrs. Wyatts." Winston mumbles.

"You know what, Schmidt? I'm tired of taking the same crap from you in a different country."

"We're still technically in America." Jess trails off. Nick turns to look at her, a confused expression plastered across his face.

"We are?"

"What do you mean? Schmidt cuts in. "What crap?"

"What do you mean_ 'What crap?'_ You know damn well what crap. All these dumb rules about PTA and when we can and can't have sex. It's ridiculous, Schmidt. You're ridiculous."

"I'm just trying to bring us together, and what are you doing? You're running around, frolicking off into every crevice of this hotel looking for somewhere to steal Jess away from us and -"

"Don't finish that sentence." Jess half-shouts, her hands over her ears.

Nick glares at Schmidt and folds his arms. Winston hovers awkwardly on his bed, fumbling with the Rubix cube he had brought for the plane, taking every opportunity he could to avoid being pulled into the spat as backup, almost definitely for Schmidt.

"I don't have to take this." Nick declares.

"You're right, you don't. But just remember, I'm the one with the cheque book. Choose your words wisely, Nicholas Miller. It's up to you if you want to deprive yourself of delicious exotic delicacy, which I would be happy to pay for provided you return the favor with the respect I so demand from a man your age."

Nick balls his hands into fists by his side, his face gradually becoming red with chagrin. Just the sight of Schmidt's smug grin and over-styled hair angers him further. On impulse, he sets his sights on the wine menu displayed on the dressing table and knocks it down. It barely makes a sound as it hits off the carpet. The four glance down at it. Jess coughs awkwardly.

"Did that make you feel better?"

"A little."

"You gonna pick that up?" Winston asks, scratching the back of his neck. "You know, it's not really the wine's fault that this vacation is going to shit on day one."

"Yeah, man." Nick answers.

"Yeah. So I mean, you should probably..."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Nick nods and bends down to pick up the discarded menu. He sets it neatly back, catching it once or twice to stop it from toppling again. He glances at Schmidt.

"I'm sorry man. I respect you."

"That's good to hear."

The loud growl Winston's stomach emits draws all eyes to him.

"You alright buddy? Your stomach's starting to sound like a dying whale."

"Not eating for six hours will do that to a man."

Jess scrunches up her face.

"Winston, we got here twelve hours ago."

"They had candy at the front desk." He shrugs.

* * *

Jess pulls a dainty lavender dress over her nautical themed bikini, what she thinks is appropriate attire for eating out in the sweltering summer heat. They are in Hawaii after all. Nick is sprawled out on his bed, fanning himself with one of Jess' glossy magazines. He is fixated on some reality T.V show about people who spoil their cats. It's the only channel that isn't static or infomercials, and Nick will settle for almost anything. Heck, he'd spent a half hour watching Dora the Explorer. Being without television for five days is easier said than done.

Jess brushes out her bangs and touches up her make-up, applying a dark cherry color to her lips glossed with a hint of raspberry lip-gloss. Nick's pretty unpredictable with the kissing, so it's probably best that her lips not taste like dried-out airplane food.

"Do I look okay? Is there any on my teeth?" She flashes a bright white smile his way, curling her lip inwards for a clearer view.

"You're fine. Jessica, we're going to be eating anyway and it's gonna come off. What does it matter?"

"I like to look nice going out." She retorts, twisting the lipstick back down and returning the cap.

"You always look nice, caked or not." Nick smirks. Jess scoffs, hitting his arm.

"I don't cake anything except cakes, Miller."

He gives her a half smile in response. They lock eyes for a moment. Jess fidgets at the hem of her dress, the feeling of lust creeping up on her and Nick's dark eyes and shaven face don't exactly work to her advantage. She sees the same burning desire reflecting from Nick. His lips slightly part and his chest rises, seizing to fall.

"Ugh, God. Fine." She sighs, dropping the lipstick and lunges forward, wrapping her hands around his neck. Her lips crash down onto his as he leans back onto the bed, letting her half-sit on his lap. His hands wander and her hands wander. She slips her tongue into his mouth, their lips slightly parting. Soft moans erupt from the back of her throat as he pulls her in closer. He slips his hand behind her, grasping her dress and he pulls upwards, almost getting it right off. And then they are interrupted by a sharp rap on the door.

"Are you two ready? What are you doing in there?"

Jess jumps back off Nick, tugging her dress back down. Nick throws his head in his hands. _For the love of God, Schmidt. _Jess grabs her purse from the back of the chair and slings it over her shoulder, patting her hair down.

"Coming!" She calls.

_'I wish' _Nick says to himself.

* * *

They eat at a fancy upper-class sushi bar, despite Winston's persistent pleas for a burger joint.

"I will not be grouped with a bunch of distasteful tourists." Is his response.

They sit side by side at the rectangular table, Schmidt sitting beside Nick and Jess so that they don't try any sneaky hand action underneath it.

"The guy is making me uncomfortable." Winston whispers to Schmidt, who promptly bats him away. The man standing behind the sneeze-guard glances up at them.

"This tastes like fish." Nick comments, prodding at his fried-shrimp roll with his chopsticks.

"Really, I hadn't noticed." Jess teases, popping a stray piece of rice into her mouth.

"Just coat it in soy sauce if you don't like it, Nick."

Schmidt scoffs. The three look at him in unison.

"Have you no concept of Japanese table manners?"

"Is that something I should be concerned about?"

He rolls his eyes. Jess pats her mouth clean with one of the napkins embroidered with a little tuna roll with a smiley face.

"Do they sell wine here?" She asks, looking around for any signs of alcohol.

Nick widens his eyes, seeing this as his escape route.

"Hey I could go for a beer. I think the place next door has a bar, let's just..."

"No! I will not have you two running around out there like drunken teenagers on graduation night. Stay in here, we'll go after." Schmidt insists.

"Schmidt, come on. Jess wants alcohol. We're only going next door,we'll be back before you know it." Nick appeals.

Jess steps off from her stool and smiles sweetly at Schmidt.

"I promise you won't even know we're gone."

Nick steps behind her and places his hands on his shoulders. They don't look too far off being a married couple. Schmidt groans and raises a hand in defeat.

"Okay, you go. But I don't want to have to say I told you so when you come back and you can't find your phone or wallet."

"We're _just_ going next door, Schmidt." Nick responds, patting Schmidt on the shoulder. "See ya later buddy."

* * *

Nick and Jess sit outside the bar, which turns out to be a sports bar, an added bonus for Nick who's been missing football immensely. From where they sit, they have a scenic view of the ocean that twinkles amidst the streetlights and restaurants lined up along the promenade. A few sailboats float off in the distance, along with one giant cruise ship. Jess sits back in her seat, cradling a glass of much needed pink wine, and Nick, an ordinary bottle of his usual beer. They don't say much. Jess occasionally brushes her foot against Nick's leg, trying to elicit conversation from him. But he is deep in his own thoughts. He is thinking about earlier. How foolish he was. Nick Miller is _known_ for practicing safe sex, relationship or not. He mentally scolds himself, and can only pray that it doesn't come back to hit him square in the face. He narrows his eyes, keeping his focus on the brown bottle in front of him. Jess takes a sip of her wine before finally finding something to say to him.

"So what do you think of Hawaii?" She questions.

Nick glances up at her and presses his lips tightly together.

"Apart from Schmidt." She adds in, placing the glass to her mouth.

"Of course. Yeah, no it's nice I guess. And let's face it, if it weren't for Schmidt it would probably feel a little too foreign." He smiles.

She giggles. "I'm glad to see you're finally seeing the bright side."

Nick raises his bottle. "Cheers."

"Cheers." She repeats, clinking her glass off his and they both drink. Then it gets quiet again. It stays quiet for a little while longer. Nick goes back to his thought process. Jess glances down along the board-walk and notices a little stack of steps down to the beach. She wraps her hand around the stem of the glass and gets up from the table.

"Let's go down there." She points with her free hand. "I've always wanted to have a sappy romantic movie moment on the beach."

* * *

They find a secluded spot away from the outdoor-diners. The cloudless night makes for a colder temperature than they both had anticipated.

"Man that sushi is not agreeing with me." Nick mumbles, placing a hand over his stomach. Jess kneels down on the sand and falls back, stretching out her legs. Nick sits beside her and places a hand on the small of her back to support her. She rests her head on his shoulder and brings her knees to her chest. Strands of stray hair dance around her face in the light summer breeze. Nothing but the sounds of the tide washing in and out are to be heard. The sky is dark, the light aura of the moon dances over the glistening water. Just like something out of a sappy rom-com: just what Jess had hoped for. She tips a drop of pink wine into her mouth. It trickles down her throat, the sharp fruity taste warms her insides. She glances up at Nick who is looking out to the horizon, his eyes vacant. A shadow is cast over his complexion, leaving only one half of his face fully visible. His teeth are clenched in his jaw and his hands are clasped tightly between his knees.

"Well what does this remind me of?" She smiles. Nick looks back at her inquisitively.

"What?"

"Four years ago?"

"A lot happened four years ago, Jessica."

Jess frowns sympathetically, seeing that Nick had taken every possible chance to forget about the horrendous cancer scare. It had left him quite shaken. She wraps her hands around him and kisses his cheek. She returns her head into the crook of his neck, admiring how stoical he is. If they were to ever analyze his thoughts, they'd probably find all the pain and emotion he keeps stored away somewhere in the back.

_Once someone's broken, they just stay broken_

_You're not broken._

_I'm a little broken._

"Hey Nick?" She muffles into his shirt.

"Mhmm?"

"Have you ever tried this?" She asks, holding up her wine glass.

Nick pulls away to fully look at her.

"Are you being serious?"

She nods.

Nick chuckles. "Would you like me to try it, Jess? Because, you know, pink wine is _such_ a masculine drink."

Jess frowns. "You mean to tell me you've been a bartender for upwards of six years, for four of which you have sold me this one specific drink, and you have _never_ tried it?"

"I'm a whiskey man, Jessica. It's hard liquor or no liquor."

"Well, Nicholas, it would be an honor for you to lose your pink wine virginity to me." She grins, holding the glass closer to him. They look at each other. Nick considers the situation. "Okay." He takes the glass. Jess beams, observing Nick's first ever taste of her favorite alcoholic drink. He takes one gulp of the liquid and scrunches up his face. But she is not prepared for what happens next: Nick immediately rejects the drink and spit-takes it, like a fountain from his mouth, all over her dress. Pink wine everywhere. She jolts up in surprise and wipes the residue from her cheeks with her fingertips. Nick bites his lower lip and widens his eyes, standing up to join her.

"I take you didn't like it?" She laughs, inspecting her dress. The huge wet patch has caused the already faded fabric to seep through and reveal her bikini top.

"I am _so_ sorry Jess." He apologizes, wiping the excess from her forehead. .

"It's fine."

"No, it's not fine. Look I ruined your dress."

"At least you didn't drunkenly pee on it." She jokes.

"Here, take off the dress, you can have my shirt." He immediately unbuttons the green flannel, exposing his chest hair to the bitterness of the night.

"What? No! Nick you'll freeze."

"So will you if you walk home in that wet dress. I'll be fine. Just take the shirt." He holds it out to her. She looks down at it and back up at him.

"Is this some kind of ploy to get me naked so we can have beach sex?" She challenges, folding her arms.

"You know I'm a discreet lover."

"Sure didn't seem like that in the elevator this morning."

"Jessica."

"Fine." She gives up.

Her dress slips off effortlessly. Nick helps her to put his shirt on, holding it out behind her and letting her slide her arms through the sleeves. Once she buttons it up, she is surprised by how warm it is. The faint scent of Nick's Old Spice fills her senses. It comes down to just above her knees, pretty much the same length as her dress. Nick takes the wine-soaked garment and holds it in a bundle underneath his arm. His eyes light up when she flicks her hair out over her shoulders. And just like he had said, her lipstick is gone. She had worn his shirts loads of times: after sex, whenever she wanted to have a lazy day and not do laundry. Or sometimes, she would just wear them of her own accord. But one thing is for sure, seeing her in his shirts just wakes something up inside of him. The corner of his lips curl upwards. The feeling of knowing how comfortable she feels to wear his shirts makes him that bit more confident of himself. Of the relationship. Seeing Caroline in his shirt never really did the same for him. It almost felt forced with her, like she only wore them to keep him happy. Jess... Jess is just a whole other story. Her tiny frame barely fills the shirt as it hangs loosely over her shoulders. She rolls the long sleeves up to her forearm.

"You look dashing." He says, taking her hand and planting a soft kiss on it.

"Pffft, shut up you clown."

He smiles, eyes bright in the moonlight. She smiles back at him, inching closer to him. He pulls her in to him and tilts her chin to look into his eyes.

"I love you, Jessica Day." She closes her eyes and breathes gently.

"I love you too, Nicholas."

He traces a finger over her lips and replaces it with his own, kissing her passionately. She stands on her tip-toes, easing into him. He lifts her off her feet, emitting a little squeal from her. He tastes the fruity droplets of wine lingering on her lips. They taste a lot better coming from Jess. Their tongues slip into each others mouths, their lips puckered together. He lowers her back to her feet and cups her face.

"You wanna go back to the hotel?" He whispers.

Jess's eyes are fixated on his. She nods in approval, not thinking twice about their roommates they had left at the sushi bar. Nick takes her by the hand and plants one final kiss on her temple. She leans closer to him as they begin walking back down the beach, the wine glass abandoned in the sand.

**Sorry, it's not my finest work. But I needed to update so here you are, friends! Chapter 6 will be up in due time :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello everyone, I hope you're enjoying the story so far! This is my longest fic and I'm trying so hard to keep it interesting. As with multi-chapter fanfictions, some parts will be less gratifying than others. Fear not, I have outstretched plans for this story, so don't give up on me just yet :). Your reviews really help me to learn more about what the reader wants so I cherish each and every review I get. Constructive criticism is vital for good writing. **

**This chapter is going to be the days. (Day 2) and (Day 3). It will have a little more of the guys' relationship rather than complete Ness. **

**Also, I hope you all enjoy the episode tonight ('Virgins'), especially for any Ness shippers, oh my goodness is it going to be amazing!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own New Girl or any of the characters.**

**(Day Two)**

The day starts off with Nick oversleeping despite numerous attempts from Jess to get him up and dressed. So, she leaves him in the room, his scruffy face buried into the pillow muffling his loud snores, and joins Schmidt and Winston for breakfast. The colossal selection of fruits, some of which even Jess can't pronounce, meats, cheese, cereals and juices is a long shot from their usual bitter coffee and overcooked eggs back at the loft. To Winston and Jess, it is more than a luxury, but Schmidt being Schmidt seems almost too used to the lavish tastes of the exotic dishes.

"Ugh can I just live here?" Jess sighs, shoveling a spoonful of melon parfait into her mouth.

"You could." Schmidt interjects. "Or you could just learn about real home-cooking in a class. I have a number you could call. It would certainly help me out. Laziness will bring you nothing but dissatisfaction with your life."

"Ha, ha, very funny. I'll remember that next time you leave the dishes in the sink. Or next time you want advice about women."

"Those two things aren't even related, Jessica. Anyway, as if I need your expertise."

Winston grabs his tray from the stack in the middle and gets up.

"Well friends, I am off for seconds. Care to join?"

"I literally spent three weeks on one of Cece's fancy model diets to fit into my bathing suits, I'm not about to ruin it now." Jess fields the question, patting her mouth dry.

"Suit yourself." Winston says behind him as he makes his way back towards the buffet.

Schmidt keeps an eye on him and waits til he is out of earshot before leaning forward on the table and slamming his fist down on the white table cloth, quavering the plates and glasses. Jess looks at him, eyes wide.

"Was that necessary?"

"Where did you two go last night?" He demands

"I beg your pardon?"

"You and Nick. After you left the sushi bar to get drinks, you never came back."

"And?" She asks, cutting off a piece of egg white and popping it into her mouth.

"And? And you broke a promise. Not only to me, but to Winston too. We were absolutely terrified you had been kidnapped by North Korean spies or something. You have disgraced the trust in our friendship, Jessica Day."

"I'm thirty-three years old. I think I can handle being out on a boardwalk at ten o'clock."

"Was Nick with you? Did you have a fight or something?"

Jess raises her eyebrow. "What? No. Why would we have fought?"

"It's just a suggestion. The point is, you can't just go off, giving us hope that you will return unharmed and then completely tear down and stamp on that hope with those giant stilettos you packed. And I'm pretty sure those are Cece's."

"Wait, you checked my suitcase for _shoes?_"

"That is not the point."

"But you just said-"

"Not. The. Point. Do not leave us hanging like that again, or there will be serious repercussions."

Jess rolls her eyes at her tyrannical roommate, not even attempting to argue back. After all, what good would it do? Maybe she'd offend him to the point that he would just fly back on an earlier flight, which, let's be honest, wouldn't be too disappointing. For anyone. Overreacting is just something one becomes accustomed to when they live with Schmidt for four years. Eventually, it just goes through you. Besides, she's learned from her mistake with the hot-dog guy and the boho-style music groups down by the beach when she last tried to change Schmidt and ended up filling the loft with boundless piles of laundry and unwashed dinner plates for a week.

Winston re-appears, his tray now consisting of two croissants, one danish pastry and a small stack of waffles doused in syrup.

"You planning on running a marathon, later?" Schmidt comments.

He sets the tray down and rubs his hands together, pondering which pastry to devour first.

"You sure you guys don't want some? Last chance." He breaks open a croissant, holds it up and begins spreading a hearty helping of jam inside of it.

"Winston, _please_ tell Jess of the horrendous burden she and her partner were to us."

Winston pauses, his mouth filled with the sweet, buttery pastry.

"Uhhhhhhh..." He swallows. "What, Schmidt?"

"Come on man, you're supposed to be on my side. Just tell her how worried you and I were."

"Schmidt to be honest I don't really remember anything after I hit the pillow last night. By the way, we have fruity drinks in our room if you feel the urge to satisfy your fruity needs." He grins with a wink.

"I'll be sure to check it out." She replies.

"Send the bartender over tonight, we can have room-service and just get drunk in our room."

Jess purses her lips. "Sounds a little depressing, but sure!"

"Are we going to the beach today? I honestly need to kick back and not have to worry about an 'itinerary' for a day."

Schmidt scoffs. "My itinerary is flawless and perfectly planned out. Color co-ordinated and paginated. Boom." He pulls the mini-booklet from his back pocket and slams it down in the center of the table. Jess and Winston can only mentally sigh to each other.

* * *

Nick wakes up two hours after breakfast. Still jet-lagged, they agree that their hours _are_ best spent relaxing in the hot golden rays of the afternoon sun down the beach. Nick and Jess share one sunbed, not wanting to pay the extra five dollars to lie on the uncomfortable blue plastic. Jess throws her Disney Princess towel over it, much to Nick's discontent. Regardless, he lies back on it with Jess tucked under his arm.

"Nick, come on." She pleads. Her hand is outstretched with a dollop of strong-smelling, white sunscreen.

"I don't need it, I've got L.A skin. Plus I'm one eighth Cherokee."

"You burn when you wear sleeves that don't go far enough down your arms." Winston adds, peering through his infamous airplane shades.

"I don't like the stuff. It feels slimy. Real men burn. They suffer. Honestly Jess, I'm fine."

Jess frowns, defeated and looks around for somewhere to dispose of her failed attempt at skincare awareness. She catches sight of Schmidt's exposed, ghost white skin, stretched tightly over his disturbingly toned abs. He is distracted by a black and green novella entitled 'Fifty Shades of Green', the 'S' obnoxiously replaced by a dollar sign. His skin is like a mirror, the sunlight bouncing off it like water droplets are sprinkled across it.

She dips down to Nick and whispers something in his ear. An approving smile spreads across his face.

"Go for it." He nods.

"Hey Edward! She laughs. "You've got something on your chest!"

Schmidt looks up from his book to inspect the situation, and is abruptly met with a cold, wet blob of sunscreen. He darts upwards, lifts his sunglasses and glares at Jess, mouth slightly agape. Nick and Winston can all but laugh in amusement, while Jess pokes into the thickest part of it, dotting the substance over random points of his skin.

"Now you're like a human polka dot." She giggles, leaning back beside Nick.

"Haha, yeah, you could. Oooh, you could skin him." Jess narrows her eyes at Winston's unfinished sentence. "And wear him as a dress."

They all stare at him with sheer horror and concern ridden faces.

"Or... or you could just not do that." He sits back, pushing his shoulders up and puffing his cheeks out. Nick shakes his head in disbelief at his friend's warped thought process, wondering which part of his childhood he'd missed out on when they were growing up to make him so tormented. Schmidt, who has been rambling about how the 'SPF is totally wrong for his delicate skin' is still rubbing at the dots, drastically trying to erase them from his body.

"That's it." He declares, reaching forward into Jess' blue and yellow striped beach-bag. "From now on, Jessica, you have no access to the sunscreen."

"I'll just buy my own." She argues.

"_I'll just buy my own." _He mocks in a demeaning tone. He places the bottle on the far side of his seat and disappears behind his book again. She turns over on her side to face Nick and begins tracing circles on his arm.

"I'm hot, Nick."

He smirks and tips his head to look at her over his frames.

"Yes you are."

"You know what I meant."

"I know, I know. I'm just playing with you.

She plays with the strings on his bathing suit and looks into his eyes.

"Come into the ocean with me."

Nick looks at her and then out to the huge, wide stretch of water in front of him filled with an array of young children and their parents, jet-skiers and surfers. He shakes his head.

"I think I'm good."

"Pleaaase?" she drags out, undoing the knot she has just worked on.

"Nah."

"Nicholas!"

"Jessica!" He answers sarcastically, flicking his index finger across her flushed cheek.

"I'll turn into a barbecue rib if I don't get out there."

"But what if I catch Hep C from the germs? Our vacation would be ruined."

Jess makes a face, not believing a word he utters.

"Don't pull that with me, Miller, I've seen you eat candy bars from the trash can outside the loft."

"They were fresh! And they were on the top of the can so they couldn't have been germy."

"Nicholas." She says flatly.

"Jessica."

She pouts, putting on a facade to work in her favor. He frowns and looks away and then looks back at her to find the same stymied expression. He sighs.

"Fine. Let's do this."

She claps in excitement and jumps out of the chair, pulling him up after her. He trails limply behind her, struggling to keep up with her collection of hops and skips and half-runs to the water, like a child who's been loaded with a little too much sugar. Her hair bounces off her shoulders, sacrificing the neatness of it prior to getting up. She wears a similar tankini to the one the previous night, only this one is red on blue rather than blue on red. It's exactly someone would call 'Jess' style. The tie is knotted tightly around her neck and is even fastened with a safety pin for maximum protection. It covers up most of her abdomen, leaving only her decolletage fully exposed. The bottoms are like little shorts that cuts off a little way down her thighs. It's a long shot from the tiny g-string bikinis other beach goers are sporting, not that Nick is too bothered. She runs down ahead, her feet colliding with the water and splashing the cool liquid up her shins and ankles. She turns to look behind her and shades her eyes from the sunlight with her hand. Nick is half jogging after her, already defeated by the overwhelming heat. He wipes the beads of sweat from his forehead and is more than thankful when he too hits the water.

"You okay, grandpa? For a second there I thought you were gonna face-plant into the sand." She teases. Nick laughs and lunges his foot forward, plunging an icy splash in her direction, soaking her from the waist down.

"You're really taking your chances here, Miller." She yells playfully. It's her turn to dip forward and return the gesture, her strength obvious in the force of the hit. She grins smugly, content with herself. They continue back and forth, every droplet of the ice-cold salt water is a glorious sensation against their sun-blazed skin. The tips of Jess' hair hang in a wet tangled bunch over her shoulders. Coaxing Nick's inner six year old is just another achievement she can add to the books. They wade out further 'til the water has risen to their waists. Jess falls back to float on her back, squinting in the strong sunlight that glimmers down on the water, shimmering and dancing in the ripples. Nick stays upright, too busy appreciating his current situation to worry about the two young boys swimming closer to them. Normally he'd say something outrageous to scare them off, like point out a non-existent child eating shark.

"Bet you're glad you came now."

"I gotta be honest, it's not half bad."

"So does this mean we can go to Venice Beach together?"

Nick splashes some of the water on his face, shakes his head and holds his nose.

"Blargh. Too touristy."

She rolls her eyes and continues to float, determined to squeeze every drop of juice from this unearthly experience that she so seldom gets to have. Her hair is now drenched, like curly seaweed floating on the surface of the water.

Once they've both turned to the equivalent of raisins, they get out and trek back to the sunbeds, dripping from every part of themselves.

"You two have fun?" Winston asks. He is sprawled out on his towel, not really focused on anything in particular bar the re-appearance of the two. Nick pulls Jess in close to him.

"Yes we did."

"Jess, your eyes are red." He points out, handing her a dry towel.

"Salt water, giant eyes, not a great combination." She smiles, taking the towel pats herself down with it.

"Is he asleep?" Nick asks, averting his attention to the slump of muscle curled up on his sunbed.

"He's gonna burn."

"Should we wake him?" Jess asks.

"Nah. If it's his destiny to burn then there's nothing we can do about it." Nick responds as casually as possible, massaging her shoulders.

* * *

**(Day 3)**

Winston and Schmidt go to breakfast alone; same pastries, fruits, et cetera are laid out for selection. They sit at one of the outdoor tables, taking advantage of the ninety degree morning heat.

"Jeez."

"What Schmidt?"

"This!" He pulls the collar of his shirt down and points to the pale speckled dots standing out from his reddened skin littering his chest. Winston chuckles and reaches out to poke one, but his hand is promptly batted away.

"This is not a laughing matter. Now all my plans to lure the ladies in with these defined collarbones and tight abs are ravaged. A Californian Adonis body. Useless."

"Lucky them." Winston mumbles in response. Schmidt shoots him a sharp death stare and covers himself back up.

"What are they doing up there? They can't possibly have slept through those alarm clocks I set for them."

"I'm sorry." Winston cuts in, licking some castaway honey from his thumb. "You set their alarm clocks _for_ them?"

Schmidt nods. "Yes. Why, should I not have set them? Should I just, let them sleep this vacation off and waste all of our time by coming here in the first place?

Winston sips his coffee and clears his throat.

"You know what Schmidt? If they wanna sleep, let them sleep. The whole point of this vacation was to relax."

"Relax?"

"I wasn't finished." He raises his hand. "You can't be such a parent to them. They're adults. Grown adults. They have urges, they act on those urges at ungodly hours of the night, and then they sleep. It's not hard to understand, Schmidt. Who's to say we can't have a blast on our own out here?"

Schmidt locks his jaw and looks out to the extravagant fountains and botanic essence of the hotel gardens.

"You're right."

"Come again?"

"I said, you're right, Winston. I should just let them do their own thing."

Winston puts his cup down and sits back in his seat, scratching his chin. Schmidt lowers his head, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Schmidt this isn't just a vacation to you, is it?"

Silence.

"Schmidt? Hey man, come on, you can talk to me. We're bros."

"Bros?" He says under his breath.

"Okay maybe not-"

"Yeah man, we're bros. Let's bro out. The bro-brothers."

"Schmidt, that's just brother-brothers."

"Hell yeah. The bro-brothers." he smiles brightly.

Winston gives up and lets Schmidt have his moment in the sun. After all, the trip has been a little chaotic. Not to anyone else exactly, but to him. Schmidt's perfectionist personality could only take so much rejection and displacement before he caved in and broke a window or two with frustration.

"So what's up?" Winston asks.

"It's just... Ever since Nick and Jess became a thing, we _never_ see him without her anymore."

"Schmidt it's always been that way. She _lives_ with us."

"Yeah, no, I get that. I guess sometimes I just miss the college days, y'know? The days where we used to listen to Ryan-Austin Green and eat raw ramen for every meal." He smiles off into the distance, probably having a fond flashback to the days. "A better time." He whispers.

"Okay, well. A lot has changed since then. If it weren't for Jess moving in, you wouldn't have Cece to lust over night after night. And we wouldn't have that new jasmine scented fabric softener. Man do I love that stuff. Makes me smell like a little jasmine flower."

"Dude? Don't you like my hypoallergenic orange scented fabric softener?"

"Yeah... That was before I smelt the jasmine one."

Schmidt rolls his eyes.

"Well that's one less thing to cross off my grocery list. I wish you had told me sooner, we would have saved five dollars and twenty eight cent every month."

Winston scratches the back of his neck and finishes off his coffee, not too keen on continuing a conversation about domestic matters abroad.

"So what's the plan for today?"

Schmidt smiles.

"We do exactly what Nick wants. We do our own thing. I'll go check out some of the local pride." He says with a sly wink. "And you do whatever the hell you wanna do." And with that, he pulls out from the table and makes his way towards the exit, leaving a slightly stunned Winston grabbing onto the back of his chair and calling after him.

* * *

"Hm, that's weird." Nick says.

"What's weird?"

"Schmidt hasn't called me all morning."

Jess reaches over for her phone and hits the home button. She frowns.

"Me neither. Is he sick or something?"

"I think I'm gonna go down to his room and check it out." Nick replies, throwing back the duvet. Jess scoots into the middle of the bed, watching as he pulls on a pair of plain gray shorts and an orange t-shirt.

"You want me to come?"

"Jess, you were up for six hours last night. You need to sleep." He advises her. "Anyway, I think you've done enough of that."

"Miller, you are filthy." She purrs.

He grins and leans forward to kiss her.

"You don't seem to have a problem with it. I'll be back in a few minutes." He strokes her hair, letting her melt into his touch. He takes his key-card and opens the heavy wooden door. "I love you."

She smiles sweetly, looking back at him, her eyes shaded a stormy blue. "I love you too."

* * *

Nick raps on the guys' door and is greeted by Winston, who is alone in the room, T.V blaring.

"Hey man, where's Schmidtty?"

"He's gone to do his 'own thing'." He air-quotes Schmidt's statement and throws himself back onto his bed.

"Wow, that's a revolution. What made him change his mind?"

"I dunno man, he was going on about how he misses college days and then he just came to an epiphany I guess."

Nick takes Schmidt's bed and throws his head in his hands. Winston glances over, taking notice in his friend's distress.

"You okay?"

"No, Winston. I'm not okay."

"Did you and Jess have a fight?"

Nick looks over at him and shakes his head. "What would we have to fight about?"

"Well you didn't come down to breakfast this morning, so I guess I balanced out the options between fighting and sex. I'm guessing sex is the winner, though."

"Damn straight." Nick takes a bottle of water from the side-table and takes a long chug to fuel his dehydrated mess of a brain.

"So what's the problem?"

"Condoms."

Winston raises an eyebrow and props himself up on his elbow. "Condoms?"

"Condoms."

"What about them?" He asks, slightly more concerned.

"We didn't use them." Nick groans and rubs his hands over his eyes. He clamps down on his bottom lip and takes another swig from the bottle, only wishing that it was tequila.

"What do you mean you didn't _use _them? You always use them."

"Yeah. We ran out before we got here."

"I knew that."

"You did?"

"I don't know if you know this, but you guys are very, very loud in the bedroom."

Nick's face flushes red.

"Isn't Jess on the pill or something?"

"That's what I'm hoping. I don't exactly want to ask her and find out that she isn't. That would be fucking terrifying."

"How much did you go at it without a rubber?"

Nick scratches the top of his head and pats his hand down on the side of the bed, finding no outlet to sugar coat the actual figure.

"Five times."

Winston's mouth drops.

"Five? Man what were you thinking?"

"I don't know, I wasn't thinking Winston."

"I can see that. If Schmidt finds out-"

"Yeah, can we just not tell him. Ever." Nick asks, joining his hands together. Though it'd be kind of inevitable if Jess were to get pregnant and find out the date that they conceived was the Monday of the vacation. Masking it would be a challenge.

"So what are you gonna do?"

"Well." Nick sits up and faces Winston, his facial expression beyond serious. "I'm thinking of running down the beach and not stopping until I hit the border."

"We're on an Island, Nick. There are no borders. Just, you know, ocean."

"Then I'll run to the ocean and I will live there as a merman."

Winston pats Nick on the shoulder sympathetically.

"I think you need to talk to Jess. You should probably find out now before you go at it again. You might have gotten lucky, man you never know. But ... if you double the saying 'third time's a charm' to make it six, that could be it. You'd have planted a Mini-Miller inside of her and you won't be hiding that from Schmidt. You know that."

Nick nods and stands up from the bed.

"I'm gonna ask her. I'm gonna be the man. I deserve to know how safe our safe sex actually is. Thanks Winston. You're a good dude." He declares, swinging the door open and slamming it shut behind him. Winston sits on the bed, eyes wide. He sits idle for a few moments Nick's voice calls through the door again.

"Hey man, did I leave my key-card in there?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 is more like a filler chapter! This basically is just a run-through of these two clearing a few concerns up. Chapter 8 will be a lot more group-oriented. I haven't had a lot of time to update, so I apologise for any delays. Thank you so much for the reviews, I really do stress how much they mean to me! Enjoy :)**

Nick strides confidently back to his room, satisfied with his talk with Winston. He is determined to barge into the room, tell Jess about the condom situation and clear his forever tormented mind of unanswered questions and concerns. He summons a compilation of ways to word his big declaration to her, with no single one any better than the next.

_Jessica, we need to have an open discussion about the subject of condoms._ Too Schmidt.

_Jess, let's talk a little bit about sexual health._ Yeah Nick, that's great, if you're teaching a middle school health class.

_Jess, one day we will conceive a child, and it will be the most cherished little gem on the planet._ Wow, are you trying to make the situation scarier?

And that's just it. The situation is scary. It's petrifying. The thought that one day, they will have a child. Or maybe multiple children. And it isn't going to be like the movies, there won't be some kind of fairy-tale blessing brought upon them. They will have to suffer through sleepless nights, changing diapers and spending all their income on baby food, highchairs and booster seats. They will be vomited on, maybe more than once a day. Tuition fees will bleed them dry if the American Education system carries on the way it is. Nick loves Jess, but lord knows that neither of them are very good company when they're tired and/or grumpy, or grumpier, in Nick's case. He decides it's probably best that if it turns out that Jess has fallen pregnant that he get the awkward conversation about the 'future' out of the way. He may have to hand this one over to Winston. Maybe it has been time enough that Nick needs to get over this honey moon phase and really thoroughly think about what he wants to become of his life. And the motivation to do just that hits him suddenly, his veins throbbing with adrenaline. He quickens his pace, walking until the solid oak of the heavy hotel room door comes into view. He rubs his hands together, feeling beads of sweat form across his brow. He clamps down on his lower lip once he finally reaches the room. Not once does it occur to him that he may be over-thinking this entire situation. Maybe Jess already knows, and isn't half as flustered over it as he is. Winston's been trying to wind him up about his relationship with Jess almost as much as Schmidt has, but each with different motives. Why shouldn't this be deemed as a ploy to destroy the relationship? To make Jess feel as though it lacks an element of trust. He rests his head against the cold solidity of the door and takes in a deep breath. With moist hands, he pushes down with full force on the handle. The door doesn't budge. So he tries again. And again. And again, until finally, the door opens with a click and Nick meets Jess' prominent blue eyes, laced with a red rim from whatever kind of weird face mask she has on. She smiles brightly and leans against the side of the white-washed wall.  
"Why hello sir, are you here for housekeeping?" She purrs

Nick half-smiles. She is wrapped in a flimsy bath-robe with her hair tied up, the tips dripping from being freshly washed. He takes in the sight of her and briefly forgets about every thought that had bombarded his brain in the past ten minutes.

"I must warn you, darling, my services don't come cheap."He says, playing along willingly, in a strong, husky Chicago accent.

She purses her lips and convincingly expresses a look of desperation.  
"I'm afraid I've got but four dollars in my wallet, however can I repay you?"

Nick leans forward and strokes his index finger along her collarbone and whispers into her ear.  
"Let me get a closer look at those pretty blue eyes and then we'll see."

Jess blushes and playfully hits him on the shoulder. He pulls back and she moves out of the way to let him slide past her, the luscious scent of citrus fruit infused body-wash wafting from her skin and treating his senses.

She drops the façade. "Forget your card?"

"I swear that slot isn't clear enough."

"Nick, it's a giant metal box right under the handle, it couldn't be more obvious."

Nick just shrugs.

"How was your talk with Winston?" She asks, taking a seat at the dressing-table and crossing her legs daintily. Nick throws himself back onto his bed. He frowns. Jess is probably expecting some kind of response to do with fantasy football or the Lakers game. Instead, she's going to get a heavy conversation about their future together, one that they most certainly should not be having on a desert island in sweltering heat. The aim of this vacation was to give them the opposite of migraines.  
"We didn't really do much talking." He begins. "Just kinda small talk and stuff. You'd be surprised by how incredibly boring he is."

"Winston is a remarkably interesting man whom we forced to live with Schmidt. I think he can afford to be boring." She grins.  
There's a brief pause before Nick finally speaks up.  
"What do you think of kids?"

She stares at him.

"What do I think of kids?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well... I... um... Where is this coming from?" She says, throwing an arm over her leg.

"It's just a general question, Jess."

"Well. Okay. What do you think of kids?"

Nick swallows. He doesn't make direct eye contact with her.  
"I asked you first."

"I asked you second." Jess teases.

"Come on, Jess."

"Fine... Well."

She props her elbows back onto the edge of the table and leans back, relaxing into her stance.

"I guess kids are pretty cool. I taught them for more than five years. They're fun little creatures to be around when they aren't spilling their juice-boxes down their clothes and trying to kill the person who broke their red crayon."

"I always hated those kids..." Nick mumbles.

"So, why do you want my opinion?"

"It's just." Nick sits up straight and places his hands in front of him on the bed. "One day, we're going to have kids. That is, if you want to." He trails off.

"Okay?"

"And I was just wondering where you stand on them."

"Are you worried about my standard of maternity?"

"Your what of your what?" He asks with a furrowed brow and a puzzled expression.

"Don't pretend you don't know what those words mean." She points her index finger at him. "Are you scared I'm not going to be a good mother?"

"What? No! No way, you are going to be the best mother, Jess!" He panics Offending her is the least best idea right now.

"I'm glad to hear. But I don't know, I assume so. I guess we won't know unless we're in that end of the pool."

"Jess, trust me, I've seen you with Sadie's daughter. That kid lights up whenever she sees you. And you had her over every weekend when Sadie and her wife got off maternity leave until they could sort out a full-time babysitter, and even when they did you cried for two weeks straight when you had to let her go."

Jess blushes at the compliment. "So I appeal to children, that doesn't mean motherhood is hot-wired into my brain, Nicholas."

"Stop doubting yourself, Jess. If we had a kid, you would be the best mother it could ever wish for. You could teach it how to bake and sew and all that stuff you do, and I could bring it down the park and teach it how to play baseball."

"Nick?"

"Yes?"

"Stop referring to our unborn baby as 'it', you know how I feel about objectifying a person who is not alive to defend themselves. Even in forensic anthropology they refer to the unidentified deceased as Jane Doe."

"What if the baby is like, one of those creepy alien things from those eighties movies."

"I'd still love that little alien baby, it would our alien baby."

Nick smiles. "I would too."

She pouts and realises the oddity of this conversation. Nick Miller being aware of his own future is more than unusual. Jess had never considered that he would be the one to raise the 'kids' question. Last time she tried to talk to him about insuring their cars, he just panic moonwalked into a shelf and got a concussion. So that was the end of her trying to ask grown-up, real life questions and she had buried those topics for the day when pigs roamed around on segways. For him to be so open and compassionate about a baby that hasn't even been conceived is highly conspicuous. But even so, it isn't an upsetting event. In fact, Jess can feel her smile spread all the way to her ears. She stares into his eyes, meeting his gaze. Nick clamps his teeth, still not satisfied with a consistent answer. He parts his lips to continue, but is cut off by Jess who starts in her seat.  
"Oh gosh, I almost forgot." She exclaims. She pulls out the middle drawer of the dresser and retrieves a small, navy toiletries bag. One that Nick is not familiar with. She fumbles with the zip while Nick on-looks from a distance. Inside, he sees a little white box with a prescription label.  
"What's that?"

"What? Oh, these." She holds the box up for a clearer view. "Just my pills. Would you be a doll and get me some water?"

Nick inches forward, raising his eyebrows.  
"I'm sorry, your what?"

"My pills."

Nick leaps off the bed and launches towards her, snatching the box from her grip and analyzes the print on the label.

"What are they for?"

"They're contraception you clown, what did you think they were?"  
Nick widens his eyes and hands her back the box, still dumbfounded. "You never thought to tell me you had those?"

"Why, was I supposed to?"

"Jess?! I've been running around like a ferret on speed since we got here. I thought we were having unprotected sex for the last three days and you never bothered to reassure me that yes, indeed we were having protected sex."  
"Why didn't you just ask? What were you afraid of."

"I just..." He trails off, not finding the words.

"You know I wouldn't have sex if it was too risky. I double check the lids of jars the jars are screwed on before I put them back in the cupboard, do you honestly think I would risk getting pregnant without you knowing?"  
"Well, I would know Jess, I'd be the one wearing the condom."

Jess sets the box down and stares at Nick with sympathy. The last thing she wants it to make him feel like they can't talk about simple things like sex. He doesn't say anything for a while. Jess takes both of his hands and tugs him closer, bringing him down to her so their faces meet.  
"I love you, Nick. But we're not ready for a kid. I know that about you. We still live in a loft with two other guys, I barely have a stable job. We're still kids at heart. I promise, I would never do anything to sabotage our relationship. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the pills, if I had known you were worried, I'd have told you in a heartbeat. I just assumed that you knew already, I mean, you were pretty freakin' passionate last night, Miller. If I wasn't on these little helpers." She taps the box with her pinky. "You'd have probably put seven babies inside of me at once."

Nick chuckles. She grins and places a hand under his chin, pulling him into a tender kiss. Their foreheads rest against one another, Nick's eyes closed. He takes in the moment, unbelievably relieved.  
"Stop worrying." She whispers, running a hand along his back. She pulls away and pulls out the metallic sheath from the box, popping out of the molecular-like white pills from the tray.  
"Now go and get me that water." She orders, pointing to the bathroom.

"Got it!" Nick obliges, still smiling. He kisses her forehead twice before standing back up. As he makes his way to the bathroom, he can't help but utter a string of 'thank gods!", to which Jess can only beam at, admiring his little fits of panic. And she anticipates one night filled with nothing but passion. Hey, he's gotta have a night where he _isn't_ constantly worried about the outcome.


	8. Chapter 8

Now that Nick and Jess have cleared up the whole condom issue, which was completely blown out of proportion by Nick, they decide to meet up with Winston. Schmidt is nowhere to be found four hours later, and right now, it's probably best to let him get lost in his own little exotic fantasy world. For the most part, he's probably out getting tipsy on fancy margaritas and trying to pick up some of the local women as a method for getting over Cece. Four years on and they still here the faint sound of sobbing coming from his room in the middle of the night. It had gotten to the point whereby Nick and Winston were taking him out to swanky bars in downtown L.A and letting him chat up women more than once a week. And every week, he would end up twice as depressed as he had previously been. Eventually they just agreed that it's probably best to let him wallow in despair. He's a helpless case. And since today is their last day before their plane departs for L.A.X in the morning, they leave the hotel, not for the beach for once, but for the little strands of boutiques and restaurants. It has only just hit them that ninety per cent of their vacation has been spent indoors, at the beach or at bars, and that's no different than being at home. Sure, they wanted to relax, as has been stressed on multiple occasions, but going away to live the exact same lives as they do back at home is a waste, and besides, the cultural aspects of Hawaii are some of which Jess is not about to let pass by, no matter how many times the guys repent.

The trio leaves the hotel at two o'clock, right at the time when the sun is in the middle of splitting the rocks. Jess has opted for an orange playsuit and bright yellow pumps. Her hair is thrown back in a messy bun. It's a little strange for her to be wearing over-sized sunglasses, but then again, if Winston can do it, so can she. The guys have both gone for plain t-shirts and knee-length shorts with flip-flops. Nick still has bed-hair and an unkempt layer of stubble covering the lower half of his face.

The second they get off the premises, they quickly realize that they aren't the only vacationers who have been driven outdoors. Everywhere they look, there seems to be an American tourist with an obnoxiously large camera and a fanny pack. Venturing through the oncoming swarms of people is a challenge, and Nick is less than impressed by being bumped into by bald, middle aged tourists, licking away at huge cones of vanilla ice-cream from the kiosk down the street.

"Can we leave yet?"

"We just got here." Jess says enthusiastically. "And there's one place that I _need_ to go to."

"And where might that be?" Winston asks lazily, strolling along, his focus not broken by the goings-on around him.

"Well." She begins. "A friend of Cece's told me that when she came here last year they had a little convenience store that sold these _huge_ jars of Nutella."

Winston and Nick exchange a tired look of utter confusion and a little sympathy for her child-like instincts to believe everything she hears.

"Uh, Jess?"

"Hmm?"

"We have those at home."

"Yes, I know that, but these ones are bigger!"

"How big we talking?" Winston persists. "You know how Schmidt feels about abnormally large consistencies of condiments."

Jess smirks. "I don't know that Nutella categorizes as a condiment, but they're pretty freakin' huge."

"Is no one else seeing the innuendo here?" Nick intercepts loudly. Jess takes no notice.

"Apparently, this store sells everything that you can buy back in the States, only they're all like ten times bigger. Isn't that amazing? And, they're really cheap, so you're getting more than you bargained for."

"But what possible use could one person have for that big a jar of nutty chocolate spread."

Nick chuckles at how Winston chose to word that sentence.

"Nutty chocolate spread." Jess giggles.

"While he phrased it... very... very weirdly." Nick shakes his head. "I mean, damn, Winston, that was weird. Seriously. Weird."

"They're basic everyday adjectives, man, you're a writer, you should know about descriptive imagery." Winston defends.

"He has got a point." Nick finishes.

Jess rolls her eyes. "Yeesh, it's like even when he isn't here, Schmidt's philosophy is still living through you guys."

They surpass a band of outdoor barbecues and kiosks, primarily selling generic '_I went to Hawaii and all I got was this lousy T-Shirt' _shirts. Nick can't help but feel little pangs of relief every time they pass a pharmacy. Just a little reminder that they, being Nick and Jess, are sorted. Every couple of minutes, he'll let out a little sigh and feel the knot in his stomach from the day's antics unwind. He takes a hold of Jess' hand, almost forgetting Winston, and plants gentle kisses atop her head. He still smells the faint scent of a botanical garden filled with roses, or simply, rose-scented shampoo lingering in her dark masses of thick hair. She reacts gracefully with a subtle smile and glances up at him, blushing at his little gestures. Not wanting to be a hypocrite, Winston refrains from interrupting their little moments and carries on taking in his surroundings and fanning himself with a flyer for an Indian restaurant they had received a few miles back. He has become accustomed to being alone with them and is therefore a little less upset by how close they are, than his slightly more contentious counterpart. Sure, it sucks having your best friend from childhood constantly occupied by your other, newer best friend, but at least this time it isn't Caroline, who often made Nick cancel his plans with the guys in order to have him for herself. From what Winston can see, Jess is such an improvement from the girls Nick used to punish himself with, even though she's a hell of a lot louder than them in the bedroom... Not that he listens.

They reach a small corner store. Jess jumps up and down excitedly like a little girl at Christmas, and points eagerly towards it.

"Jess, remember, you're thirty four years old." Winston says, looking around to make sure there aren't a thousand eyes on them. He ushers her in through the automatic doors.

"Age is just a number, Winston."

"And prison is just a building."

"Winston, stop using internet jokes outside of the internet." Nick groans.

"The outernet." Jess whispers under her breath.

"Really Jess?"

"I had to!"

The store is compact and has multiple running fans. It doesn't stock much produce, apart from some of the exotic fruits Jess recognizes from breakfast at the hotel. It's not very bright, so squinting is the only option for those of who want to shop for specific brands. They weave in and out of the small aisles, keeping their eyes peeled for the infamous jar of Nutella that Jess almost caused a public scene over.

"You guys see anything?" She asks. Both the guys respond with a negative answer, neither one putting much of an effort into scanning the shelves.

"This is making me re-think how much trust I put into people's words. You get built up for great things and then you just get knocked right back down." She sighs.

Nick gives her a disgruntled look.

"It's just a freakishly huge jar of Nutella, Jessica."

"It's not _just _a jar of Nutella, Nicholas." She shoots back. "This jar of Nutella serves a much greater purpose than you could ever imagine." She says, pushing her face close to his. Nick furrows his brow and smiles a forced smile.

"Well, I wonder what that could be."

Jess pulls away and exhales deeply, Nick feeling her hot breath against his skin. "You'll find out." She winks. Nick stands still, his breath catching in the back of his throat. He quickly realizes that Jess' desperate need to get her hands on this Nutella is a little less innocent than he had anticipated. He stands still, watching her bounce off ahead of him. He averts his gaze to Winston, who is analysing a jar of pickles, completely oblivious to what is going on behind his back. Jess twirls around as she skips up the aisle, her index finger hanging from her bottom lip deviously. Her eyes are filled with a dark lust that Nick really wishes could wait until they got to somewhere a little less public. She bats her eyelashes and lets her hand linger at the hem of her playsuit, strands of loose hair dance daintily around her face, her cheeks are flushed a deep red, which Nick knows can't be from the heat. The fans in this place are running so fast that it's almost impossible for there to be even a _degree_ of heat present. Jess stands at the end of the aisle, peering out from behind her bangs. Her ice-blue eyes reflect the sunlight that shines in through the single window, like two little diamonds. She focuses on Winston, who by now is off in his own little dream world and has sauntered off to another corner of the store. She gestures for Nick to come down to her, to which he quickly obliges. She drapes an arm around his neck and kisses him on the cheek.

"Jess, we can't do this here." He says shakily.

She pouts, throwing her other arm around him, overlapping the first one. She tilts her head. Her expression screams desire, and she's not doing a terrible job at getting his blood boiling with the same. He pulls one arm down from around his neck and shakes his head no.

"You're the one who wanted to undress me in the elevator." She whispers seductively.

"What has gotten into you?"

Jess runs her hand along Nick's chest, staring at the red fabric of his shirt. "What can I say, Miller? I can be a little unpredictable, sometimes."

Nick swallows, realizing that Jess being like this is such a rarity, and he might not see it again for months. His first instinct is to push her up against the wall and have his way with her like he had almost done on day one of the vacation. But he quickly scolds himself for thinking so perversely. It's probably best to avoid getting caught by some old lady who came in to buy apples for a pie, who then quickly calls the store manager and has them deported for indecent public behaviour. Instead, he gently backs away from her.

"Let's just get what we came here for, and then we can get back to the hotel. Okay?"

Jess hesitates, but obliges. She takes hold of his hand and guides him down the aisle with an assortment of raspberry preserve and marmalades, before she finally sees the red and black label, displayed clearly, bang in the middle of the shelf. And sure enough, it's huge. There are only about four jars, presumably because if they loaded any more onto it, the shelf would cave and there'd be a splattered mess of orange peel mixed with the distinct smell of hazelnuts. It's like nothing they've seen before. Sure, they have them at crepe stands down by Venice Beach, but everyone considers them as special, customized industrial sized jars for businesses only. Not ever did they think that they could own one.

"Four dollars? Are you kidding me? It's like six dollars for the small jars in Walmart." Nick exclaims. Jess can only smile. "We're getting excited over a jar of Nutella. This is what has become of our lives." She beams. "And I don't really have an issue with it."

Winston comes up behind the two, carrying a plastic bag with a single jar of pickles.

"Hey did you guys find it – Woah that is a huge jar." He says, stopping in his tracks. Jess smiles at Nick and raises an eyebrow. Nick pulls it down from the shelf, feeling the force of gravity draw his hand towards the ground from the weight of the jar. He stands back up straight and catches it with one hand.

"Does this impress you?" He grins at Jess with that annoyingly attractive grin that he knows makes her go all tingly, when his eyes get real narrow and emit this kind of teasing that he has mastered. She huffs, rolls her eyes and walks off ahead of him once again. "Just pay for it you clown."

"What's her hurry?" Winston inquires.

"I think I've got a fairy good guess." Nick replies with a half-smile, following a determined Jess to the checkout.

* * *

They return to the hotel an hour and a half later. Winston had been forced to carry two bags while Jess hopped up on Nick's shoulders and got carried home. For the most part, they looked like teenagers who had been away from their parents for the first time in forever. Nick's back kills. Jess has a tiny frame, but even that doesn't compensate for his poor physique and pretty much non-existent upper-body strength.

"So that's what it's like to be Nick Miller." She says, hopping down and flattening out the orange material of her playsuit. There's not a significant difference between their heights, but making Nick feel like there is is the best idea for everyone. A happy Nick Miller generally calls for an overall nicer atmosphere, and Lord knows that the way to Nick's happiness is making him feel masculine, as is the case with most men. It's not that he isn't, it's just that, you know, when he screams at an octave that even dogs would stun at, you tend to forget his brain doesn't emit endorphins.

Nick gives her a thumbs up and stretches out his back muscles, relieved at the weight lifted from his shoulders. "You should get back up there more often" He suggests, his words lacking a genuine interest.

"You can give me rides to work."

"Yeah…" He says. "Or you could take your car."

"But you're so much better for the environment." She winks.

Winston strolls behind them, his hands in his pockets. The cool temperature supported by the A.C. in the lobby is something he's more than grateful for. He spots a vending machine at the far end of the lounge and signals to the others to go off ahead of him. They murmur their goodbyes before Jess is all over Nick once again, hands wandering in every way possible. Winston cringes and fishes in his back pocket for some loose change. He had acted like he hadn't seen them back in the store. He'd even contemplated leaving, so if they got caught he wouldn't have to be involved. He isn't sure what possessed them to act so provocatively in a public place. Nick was once the king of discreet infatuation and tried to keep it classy, while Jess was only ever indiscreet at bars or in the loft. It's like they brought each other out of their shells, just not in a particularly pleasing way to those who are forced to witness every last drop of saliva lingering on their lips after a passionate make-out session.

Winston is scared for Nick. Sure, the relationship has been running clean for the last two years with very few arguments or fallouts, but that is bound to end badly. Nick and Caroline never fought, and if they did it was almost always something minor and easily resolvable, and look where that headed. He tries to supress these opinions on a daily basis, but to no avail. Somewhere within him, there's a bad feeling that arises any time they seem almost _too_ happy. Maybe he's just an oblivious cynic. Maybe everything in the relationship is swell, only not swell because swell is a horrible word to describe a relationship, but right now his thoughts are too set on getting his hands on the icy, refreshing soda that he has just tapped into at the vending machine. It makes a few clinks and a loud 'harrumph' before finally ejecting the silver Diet Coke can. He punctures the top and takes one large gulp, clearing almost half the contents. If Nick and Jess were to end badly, the whole integrity of the roommate dynamic would be compromised, and Jess would probably move out, and Nick would be a bitter old man again, and Schmidt and Winston would be done with trying to cheer him up and someone would end up taking their own life. It's just destiny.

Meanwhile, Schmidt is still missing, and that's something that he should probably focus on considering Schmidt has all their passports for 'safe-keeping', and he's the one who knows what he's doing when it comes to airports.

_Ah how great a friendship: He gives them money and lives in the real world for them._

He whips out his phone from his back pocket with the intention of calling him. In fact, he whips it out so hard that instead of actually grabbing it like he's supposed to, he completely misses it and lets it half-slide half-leap out of his reach. Before he has time to react, the phone has taken a slow-motion dive into the fountain in the middle of the lobby. He just stands and stares in disbelief. Some of the people around him are snickering, and others are shaking their heads.

"What y'all staring at? Ain't you ever seen a guy drop his iPhone in a fountain before?" He announces, his voice riddled with panic and frustration. The audience turns away. Winston rushes to the side of the fountain and fishes the banjaxed, soaking wet phone from the water with some hope that isn't broken and has survived its little swim. Needless to say, it's pretty damn broken. The screen is cracked in all directions thanks to the rock-hard marble that the statue in the centre of the fountain is made of, plus, well, it fell into water at full force.

He groans and shakes some of the droplets from the screen, desperately pushing down on the 'on/off' button.

"Come on, man, don't do this to me." He puts the phone to his ear, not really knowing what he's expecting to happen.

'_Hello, this is AT&T helpline service, we've detected that you dropped your four hundred dollar phone into some fountain in the middle of Hawaii, you complete imbecile.' _And then maybe some evil witch-like cackling to top it off.

Fuming with anger, he takes the phone in his fist and storms out the doors of the hotel, in desperate need of a beer. And he's _definitely_ not crying. The nearest bar is only two blocks from the hotel, and Winston doesn't need no dumb iMaps for that. He mutters curse words and rants about how technology should be waterproof in this 'day and age', drawing some confused looks from pretty much everyone.

* * *

Once they get off the elevator, the strings that hold Jess' playsuit up are undone and swinging freely from the bust. Nick delves forward, pressing his lips tenderly to the sensitive skin of her neck. She breathes deeply, the plastic bag from the store dangling from her two fingers. One arm is thrown over Nick's shoulder and she clutches at the neckline of his shirt, letting him guide her back to the room. They stumble closer down the hallway. Jess tries to keep a hold of herself upon feeling his hot breath caress her skin. She bites down on her bottom lip.

"So you couldn't do this in a dark corner of an isolated store but you can in broad daylight on a hotel corridor." She moans under her breath. He doesn't respond, instead, he pulls back and lifts his shirt over his shoulders, discarding it on a spot of carpet.

"Are you going to just leave it there?" She asks, the words barely comprehendible.

"Shut up, Jess." He breathes heavily, catching the underside of her knees and pulling her up to him. Their lips crash onto one another's in a collision of hot passion and desire. Like on the first day, he inches closer to the room, fumbling in his wallet for the card. He grasps it and feels around for the slot, his arm still supporting Jess' legs. Once he hears the click, he turns back and forces the door open with his shoulder blades. The room is a mess, clearly isolated by house-keeping. He lets Jess back onto her feet and she lets out a sigh. He searches the ground for the 'Do Not Disturb' sign, finding it wedged underneath the bathroom door. He hooks it over the handle and the door is drawn shut by the hinge. Nick kicks his sandals from his feet, the blood rushing through his veins. It wasn't until Jess had played so risqué back in the store that Nick realized just how aroused he was. Sure, Schmidt's missing and Winston's been pretty much alone for the entire trip but all that has surpassed his thoughts and he is determined to give Jess every ounce of lasting passion that lurks within him before they leave the next morning. And then he turns around. And Jess is lying on her bed in the foetal position. Nick furrows his brow.

"You okay, Jess?" He asks worriedly.

Her playsuit is still half-hanging, exposing her baby blue lace bra. Nick feels his erection grow harder in the seam of his underwear, making them uncomfortably tight. But something seems off. Jess glances up at him, her eyes dark and lustrous.

"I'm fine." She mumbles. "I'm just tired, can we sleep for a while?"

Nick feels disappointment drop in the pit of his stomach. He smiles sympathetically. She had overestimated her ability to be both playful and seductive, two things that Jess needs to separate out. She's so full of energy most of the time that she uses it too quickly and burns herself out. This isn't the first time they had gotten less than two minutes away from sexual bliss before Jess just crashed into fatigue. On multiple occasions, for example, the many parties she throws, Jess would try to please everyone while simultaneously trying to provide affection for Nick. She'd have to make sure everyone was entertained, that they were enjoying the music selections, that no arguments had broken out. She'd have to introduce her newer friends to Nick, who she would then go off and try to spend time with before being whisked away by some model who wanted to make her do shots that she just couldn't tolerate. Then later, when they'd sit down on the couch for their own romantic night in and turned on some rom-com Jess had picked out, she'd end up asleep on his shoulder twenty minutes in. Most times, he'll admire her for being so ambitious and sociable. But then other times he'll want to yell at her for not being assertive and recognizing her own needs.

He smiles down at her tiny frame, bunched up on the bed, her blue eyes peeking out from the slit of her eyelids as she struggles to stay awake. She looks guilty. She feels guilty. As if she has let Nick down. She pats the fraction of space beside her, encouraging him to lie beside her, which he does. She scoots over to the wall, leaning against the cold, hard concrete. Nick, still shirtless, climbs in beside her and pulls her in close to his chest. She breathes onto his skin.

"I'm sorry." She yawns, burying her head into him and wrapping her arms around his waist. Nick strokes a single strand of hair that has fallen over her eyes. He feels her eyelashes brush against him, just as a perspective as to how close she is to him, and her eyes shut.

"It's okay, Jess. We can start again when you wake up." He whispers, his voice low and drowsy. The discarded blanket that had been left on the floor that morning lays a few centimetres from where Nick is. He twists backwards, careful not to upset the sleeping bundle in his arms, and reaches down to retrieve it. He clenches his teeth and pulls it up, throwing it delicately over the two and tucks Jess in with his free hand. She stirs, but doesn't open her eyes. Instead she lets out a little sigh and tightens her grip on him.

"I love you, Nicholas."

"I love you too, Jessica."

* * *

Winston has gone through two Heislers and feels a little calmer. He'd ranted to the bartender about how sucky his vacation had been, and tells him about Nick and Jess and how he lost his roommate and about his phone in the lobby.

"Funny." The tanned, bulky bartender chuckles. "Some guy just came in and told me pretty much the same story. Not the phone part though. Man, how do you throw a phone into a fountain? Were you on crack?"

Winston glares at him and takes a swig of his beer.

"What do you mean someone told you the same story?"

"Some guy came in here like ten minutes ago, with weirdly styled hair and a really obnoxious way of pronouncing mango chutney, which we don't have, so then he got really pissed and told me I have no cultural diversity. And how we don't appreciate India enough. He ordered melon liquor. Like, a lot of it. He said he was sick of his roommates constantly making out and trying to get HIV in an unknown land." The guy polishes a glass with a white cloth. "I was pretty offended."

"Schmidt." Winston mutters.

"Did he leave?"

"Uhhhh" He scans the room, lifting his head, though Winston isn't sure why, this is probably the most isolated bar in Hawaii. "No, he's over in that booth by the restrooms."

Winston looks over his shoulder following the bartenders gaze, and sure enough, there's Schmidt, with a flower necklace around his neck and an unbuttoned generic Hawaiian Flare shirt. He is sitting slumped over about six or seven shot glasses and his head is hanging loosely. His hair is starting to fall from its perfectly gelled form and he honestly looks like he's on cloud negative nine. Winston tips his beer to the bartender, mutters a 'thank you' and makes his way over. Schmidt doesn't acknowledge him. Instead, he grumbles a string of inaudible words and then becomes silent. He analyses him and bites back a sympathetic frown.

"Ay man you alright? We were worried about you." He slides into the booth and sits directly across from his dishevelled roommate, cradling his beer by the stem. The heat from his hands has warmed the formerly ice-cold liquid to a dull lukewarm temperature.

Schmidt doesn't lift his head.

"I don't know what I'm doing with my life." He mumbles, knocking back the remainder of the melon shot.

"Have you showered since last night?"

"What's the point, Winston?" He drops his head down into the middle of his arms and lets out what Winston can only make out as sobs. Wretching, sickly drunken sobs. He reaches over and pats him on the shoulder.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Schmidt abruptly sits up straight and scratches his neck, his eyes rimmed red. "Winston. I love Cece."

Winston nods his head slowly. "I know where this is going."

"I mean, I thought I was over her, you know? It's been four years. I see couples everywhere, and I just keep thinking that that could have been us, had I not white-fanged her."

"White fanged?"

"It's a long story."

"I'm not gonna ask."

"Anyway, I just. I wish I had another chance to show her how great we'd be together. I've changed a lot since then. I even gained almost five pounds in muscle tone."

"Schmidt." Winston interjects.

"I could lift twelve Ceces."

"Okay man, we need to get you back to the hotel. We can call Nick and Jess and we can all go out and get food anywhere you want."

Schmidt pouts and looks at Winston with a weird, sad expression that looks like he's having a stroke.

"Hores D'Ouvres?"

"Well, I-I-uh-…" Winston hesitates.

"We'll see. Come on, let's get out of here." He suggests, leaving his half-full beer behind him and coaxing Schmidt from the booth. He barely stands straight before he collapses back into the seat. Winston looks over at the bartender who had been watching the whole time. He gives him a sympathetic look and continues to wipe the bar down.

"If only Nick were like him." Winston sighs. He grabs Schmidt's forearm and pulls him up, throwing an arm around his shoulders. "You should probably sleep. And shower, yeesh you smell like sand."

"I laid down in the sand with this homeless guy. We talked about life."

"What did you drink?"

"I think I was sober actually."

Winston rolls his eyes and starts out towards the door. He sighs, almost unable to contain his excitement about leaving in the morning. This would probably be remembered as one of his most depressing vacations. Not only had most of it been spent drunk or asleep, but in the space of twenty four hours, he'd managed to drop his phone in a fountain, been rejected by his friends so they could take care of their _needs_, and he's pretty sure the sand between his toes from day one will put up a fight when he tries to get it out. All he wants to do is pack and get back into his own bed, in his own home, to his own girlfriend, so that he doesn't have to put up with Schmidt, or Nick or Jess. He reaches into his back pocket to text Nick about the situation with Schmidt and throws his head back in frustration when he feels nothing but the empty slot of his shorts.

_Only eleven more hours, Winnie. You can do this._


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: This chapter contains mature content, I choose not to set it to M because M Fics are often hidden away and not all of this fic has got such rated material. I hope you enjoy!**

**I do not own New Girl or any of the characters**

* * *

It's only half an hour later when Nick feels her shift in his arms. He'd tried to fall asleep but couldn't muster up enough tranquility He's still on a buzz since the morning's events and couldn't put a stop to his brain coming up with new thoughts about all the things they could get up to now they had no reason to be cautious. Sure, Nick knows that no contraception is one-hundred per cent reliable, not even wearing two condoms, which he'd quickly discovered really didn't work, pleasure-wise or contraceptive-wise after a regrettable night with some chick in his dorm back in college. He would close his eyes and try to relax, but any time he tried to clear his thoughts, it only fueled them more. Eventually, he just decided to lie still and let his subconscious whip up whatever indecent, erotic thoughts it so pleased.

She yawns and rubs at her eyes, batting her lashes gracefully as she meets his loving gaze.

"Morning sleepy head." He smiles. She sits up, propping herself up on the palm of her hand and pulls her hair over onto one side. She smiles back at him and narrows her eyes, setting her sights on the window behind him.

"The sun is setting. I keep waking up at the same time every day. Is this a sign?" She says, her sleep ridden voice is husky and a little raspy. Nick looks out of the huge patio window catching sight of the balcony they had neglected the moment they arrived. It's a plain setting, but not shy of a spectacular view of the ocean. _Schmidt kind of walked himself in to this one._ It's not that big and is equip with two wooden chairs with long beige cushioned covers and a petite round table. A perfect place for a couple to spend their final hours in the hazy setting sun with some fancy dish that they can't pronounce and Sauvignon Blanc, because that's _totally_ Nick's thing. A pensive expression blankets over his face and suddenly his romantic side takes over, shouting ideas into his face. He scratches the back of his neck and falls into a daze, letting his mouth curl upwards and he mentally pats himself on the back. His thoughts spin off in all different directions as he tries to both lay out his 'plan' and pay attention to Jess. She looks pale. Understandably, considering she hasn't eaten in hours.

"Yeah. Seems like it." He says lazily.

Jess looks at him and furrows her brow, sensing his smile is not consistent with her waking up, but with something completely unrelated. His scheming smile is too obvious for her to overlook.

"Spit it out, Miller." She teases, poking a finger at his chest. He responds with a badly staged, surprised look.

"Spit what out? I haven't got anything to spit out. What would I have to spit out?" He bites back on his tongue. He won't let her find out about his plans for them. Their final night in Hawaii, though they've spent pretty much the entire time with each other, is going to be spent alone. Just the two of them, in dim light, the only source being that of the flame of a candle, flickering in the light breeze that Nick hopes doesn't fail him. No Winston, No Schmidt. But he needs to find a way to get Jess out of the room. Except maybe he should probably say something because she is staring at him with a hollowed out look of confusion and judgement.

"I don't understand you." She finally says, climbing over him and making her way to the bathroom. He watches, mesmerized. He isn't sure how a woman, who has just woken up from a thirty minute nap, completely disorientated, disheveled and slightly narky can look so beautiful. He watches her ruffle her hair and admires her half-stumbled stance as she crosses the threshold and shuts the door behind her. He laughs to himself. But not one of those condescending laughs that everyone seems to think of when someone laughs for no reason, but just a laugh out of pure euphoria. He's been doing that a lot recently. He isn't sure why, but he lets it happen.

He too decides to manoeuvre himself from the bed, which has gotten far too hot to be comfortable, and he's almost certain the air conditioning has gone down again. The bags from the store that lie abandoned on a little desk-bench thing by the wardrobe have two little blue caps on a blue stem emerging from the opening, and if it isn't water Nick is seeing, he is not going be happy. He pulls one out, mutters a 'thank you' to virtually nobody and takes a long drink from the bottle. Hygiene means nothing to him at the moment. If he's going to get someone sick, now, the day before they leave and can get health care they're familiar with, this is the perfect time. The water has warmed up from sitting in the stuffy room but he doesn't notice, nor does he care.

"Hey Jess." He says, lowering the bottle from his lips and screwing the cap back on. "I think Winston wants to go down the beach today." There's a lengthy pause before he gets any kind of answer. He stares at the bathroom door.

"And?" She finally says. Nick breathes a sigh of relief.

"You guys should go. You barely saw him since we got here."

Another pause.

Except this time it's longer and a little more worrying.

"Nick we went to the store this morning." She says, emerging from the bathroom. She has a fresh face of make-up on and she has little patches of toothpaste decorating the outline of her lips.

"Yeah. You look beautiful by the way."

"Shut up. Keep talking."

"Okay." Nick says, nodding his head casually. "Well, you know. I was with you guys then, and you could use some Win-Jess time."

"Win-Jess?" She asks with a raised eyebrow. She can so tell when Nicholas Miller _is lying_. He can't keep his composure no matter how hard he tries. He's doing that weird eyebrow thing again and she's almost sure he's going to start spurting sweat in two to three minutes She points her toothbrush at him, swivelling it around. "I know what you're doing, Miller. I'll get out and let you do what you gotta do."

"Are we on the same page here, Jess?"

She smiles deviously. "You tell me. Just make it quick. I haven't forgotten about earlier." She says, inching towards him. She cups his face and places a tender, passionate kiss on his now hot lips, smiling against them as they break apart and look into each other's eyes. She smacks him with the back of her hand, turning to find her shoes.

"I'm not an idiot, and don't screw this up"

"You know I'll screw something up."

She looks at him over her shoulder. "Just don't get arrested."

"No promises." He winks.

"Ugh. Shut up. I'll go find Winston." She stands back up, kisses his cheek and is out the door before Nick can get a word in. He stands, feeling slightly rejected, at the other side of the door, wondering whether or not he should call after her in case this is like one of those cases where someone gets murdered and you remember the last thing you said to them was something really dumb and meaningless. On impulse, he catches the half-closed barrier and chases down after her.

"I love you, Jess." He half-shouts.

She swings back around, the curls at the tips of her hair bouncing in sync with her. She beams.

"You just don't stop, do you?"

He stares at her and now he's not in control of his smile. Whatever the hell is coming over him, he has no control of. And he's fine with that. She shakes her head, still smiling her adorable little smile that covers her response, and with that, she continues down the hall and turns the corner to the elevator.

* * *

By the time she reaches Winston's room, she meets him and Schmidt. Schmidt is practically dangling from Winston, his head drooping and his stance limp. Winston tilts his head upwards when he sees Jess. He too looks a little disoriented.

"Whaddup Jess."

"Hey guys. You okay there Schmidt?" She says, bending slightly to see his face. He groans in response and Winston gestures towards him.

"He misses Cece so he got drunk."

Jess gives him a sympathetic look. "Again? Come on buddy, it's been three and a half years." She pats his shoulder. "I thought we agreed alcohol is only necessary for six months after a break-up."

He groans again.

"He won't listen. Believe me, I've tried."

"How long as he been like this?"

Winston shrugs. "No idea, I found him in a booth in that bar by the sushi place. I'm gonna get him some coffee and hopefully he'll fall asleep so I don't have to deal with him for a few hours."

Jess chuckles and nods. "Well. Nick wants me out of the room so he can plan some romantic night for us."

"He told you that? Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"

"It's Nick we're talking about, Winston. It's literally like he talks when he thinks."

"Did he do the smile thing?"

"You betcha'."

"Right. You wanna come inside?"

Jess shakes her head and wraps her arm around Schmidt's shoulders while Winston opens the door. Their room looks like it hasn't been cleaned since they arrived; napkins scattered everywhere except the trashcan, dirty mugs piled one on top of the other by the kettle, chip bags, apple cores. Jess crinkles her nose at the pungent odour.

"Sorry about the mess." Winston apologises. "This is what happens when we let Schmidt roam around on his own. He's supposed to be keeping the place clean."

"But…" She trails off, looking around in disgust. "He only left this morning."

"Yeah…" Winston murmurs guiltily.

"Winston you mean to tell me _you_ made this mess? In a day? I mean, sure, it's not nearly half as bad as Nick's, but come on man."

"That's why we have house-keeping."

Jess' mouth drops open. "Winston you can't expect house-keeping to clean up this kind of mess. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if they came in here, took one look and walked out swearing in some kind of Hawaiian vernacular."

"Pidgin."

"Huh?"

"Pidgin. That's one of the languages they speak here. I did my research. My research being typing what language they speak in Hawaii into Yahoo Answers."

Jess bats her hand.

"Whatever. Look, you make him coffee with a _clean_ cup, and I'll start cleaning.

"Jess, really, you don't have to do that."

"Trust me Winston. I have to." She says, kneeling on the carpet and picking up the napkins one by one by the corners. "These aren't even dirty." She exclaims, examining them back to front.

"No but I sneezed earlier."

She drops the napkin abruptly.

"Lovely." She gripes, rubbing her thumb and forefinger together.

* * *

Nick rummages through the bags from the store and unloads them, praying to find something sufficient with a 'romantic night on the balcony'. The contents consist of two potatoes_, because Jess wanted to draw faces on them and make a production for her students to teach them sex-ed in a non-threatening way and apparently Hawaiian potatoes throws in a little cultural diversity, _a carton of milk which is a waste because Nick doesn't take milk in his coffee and Jess only drinks tea in the morning and before bed, and that jar of Nutella. He groans and rubs his forehead with the heel of his hand.

"I could always just make some kind of Nutella-Potato concoction." He says, holding a potato in one hand and the jar in the other and staring at himself in the mirror in front of him.

"No don't do that."

He takes his phone from his pocket and dials Winston's number, but is immediately sent to the operator.

"What the?"

He shakes his head and proceeds to call Schmidt. It rings a few times, meanwhile, Nick is staring at his reflection, snapping his fingers at himself in pride. Only Nick Miller could come up with such a fool proof plan, yet somehow ruin it and then save it all in the space of two minutes.

"Schmidt's phone."

"Winston?"

"Aye Nick, what's up?"

"Where's Schmidt?"

"He's uh… He's drunk."

"Okay. So is Jess with you?"

"Yeah she's here."

"Here? Where exactly is here, Winston?"

"She's in our room."

"Why is she in _your_ room?"

"She came down here. And now she's cleaning."

"She's cleaning? Winston, I sent her down so you guys could hang out while I did this thing I had planned. Not so she could be your maid."

"I didn't ask, man, she just kinda… She..."

"She what, Winston?"

"She got really defensive about house-keeping and started picking up napkins. Did you say something to her?"

Nick scrunches his face up. "No, no I didn't say anything to her. She's just been kinda pissy all evening."

"Women, am I right?" Winston jokes.

"Winston, she's _with _you. Be careful about how you talk about women."

"Nah man, all's good. I'm sitting in the bath-tub with the curtain drawn."

"Why are you-? You know what, never mind. Listen, I need something that goes either with potatoes or Nutella."

"Uh… yeah okay, Schmidt got strawberries and stuff yesterday. I think we have some left."

"Perfect! Strawberries and potatoes, you're a genius man."

"No, Nick, I-."

"Perfect, okay can you bring them up? I don't want Jess thinking I'm an idiot."

"Oh trust me, that isn't what makes her think you're an idiot."

* * *

Nick answers the door to a very grouchy looking Winston, with his two top buttons undone and patches of grease on his shirt. He is holding four single strawberries, each one looking more bruised and shrivelled than the next.

"What is this?" Nick asks, gesturing to the half-dead fruit.

"Strawberries. You asked for them."

"Winston, those aren't strawberries. Those are reddish-brown triangles with leaves. And they're tiny. This is supposed to be _dinner_, Winston. Not a mid-evening snack."

"Well I mean this is all we have left. If you like I could go make Schmidt puke up the ones he had last night."

"Get out of here." Nick sighs, taking the strawberries from him and cupping them in the palm of his hand. "I'll just put the leaves on the potatoes for decoration. How about that for improvisation." He winks. Winston rolls his eyes and turns back to go to his room.

"Good luck with the date, just don't feed her raw potatoes."

"Don't tell me what to do." He yells back. Winston throws a hand up and disappears down the hall and Nick is left alone again.

* * *

An hour later, Nick has assembled the chairs to be somewhat straight across from each other at a good angle so that the view of the ocean is not left astray when they eat, or not eat. He's placed two of the hotels' mediocre glasses beside a bottle of cheap wine from the wine menu, and, after endless accounts of getting the strawberry leaves to stay on the potatoes, he decides to just push them back into their fruit and leave them on a plate beside the bottle. He's also opted for using room service as their source of food, which he requested a candle be sent up with. And he hopes to God that the hotel don't expect him to have brought his own matches. Those things are _dangerous_ and they're super-hot and prone to burning Nick's fingers whenever he attempts to light them.

"Should I or shouldn't I?" He says to himself, taking the famous jar of Nutella on and off the table indecisively. He makes about four turtle faces in a row and eventually his mouth gets kind of sore, so he just leaves it there. After all, chocolate _does_ complement wine.

He texts Winston, letting him know that Jess can come back up. And fifteen minutes of sitting, staring at his phone, no response. The sky has begun to get dark and Nick has begun to get a little worried. He tries Schmidt's phone, waits for a few minutes, tapping his foot on the solid concrete of the balcony and looking out at the ocean as it glistens beneath the moonlight. The stars have made themselves known and are prominent above where he sits.

Then his phone beeps.

_Schmidt: She's on her way. Had to wake her up._

Nick frowns. Why on earth is Jess so damn tired? Their sex couldn't have been _that _vigorous and tiring. Hell, they haven't had sex in a day. Nevertheless, she's awake now and she's coming up to the room, so he needs to make himself look presentable. He dashes to the bathroom to make sure his hair is intact and that he hasn't got stains on his shirt from accidentally spraying Jess' tanning mist under his arms instead of deodorant. He slicks back his hair and adjusts his collar before giving himself a pre-date pep talk.

"You got this man. You can do this. You've been with her for two years, what the hell have you got to be nervous about. You did what she said, you didn't get arrested, you didn't set anything on fire, and you only broke one glass _and _you cleaned it up." He pats himself on the shoulder and takes a deep breath. "I got this."

"Nick?" She calls from outside.

He turns around frantically and fumbles with the doorknob. "Just a sec!" He calls back. He twists the handle and pushes it with the side of his torso.

"Come on. Open." He says, agitated.

"Nick, the door is a pull door." She yells, her voice laced with sarcasm.

He looks down at the silver handle, twists, and pulls it, bringing it forward.

"Oh. Yeah, I knew that."

Abruptly, he opens the door with a huge smile that reaches his ears and spreads his arms open in the direction of the balcony. She is standing with her arms folded. Her mascara is smudged from sleep and her playsuit is lopsided at the bust.

"Good evening m'lady, have you got a reservation?" He says in a dreadful Italian accent.

"I don't know if that accent is a turn on or if it's kind of terrifying." She laughs stepping in past him and looking out at the display Nick has set up. She grins and turns back to him, overcome with elation when she sees how much effort he has put into the evening, with his groomed facial hair and immaculate white shirt. She cocks her head and takes him by the hand, guiding him out. She giggles when they get onto the balcony. Nick wraps one arm around her waist and pulls her chair out for her, gesturing for her to sit.

"Why thank you." She says, gracefully sitting herself into the comfortable beige chair. She gets a glimpse at the set-up on the table. The wine is definitely a go-ahead. However she's a little confused by the potatoes and the strawberries.

"Nick?" She asks.

"Hmm?"

"Is this our dinner?"

Nick shakes his head no. "No, we're gonna order room-service."

"Room-service? Does Schmidt approve? Actually you know what, nevermind." She stops herself, remembering Schmidt's drunken state. He can't exactly approve of much when he could barely utter a simple 'Hello' earlier. "What are the choices?

"Well, I come in mild, spicy and extra spicy." He winks.

Jess picks up one of the strawberries and throws it at him. "Clown."

He laughs and throws one back at her, to which she is quick to dodge.

"I'll take the extra spicy." She says, her voice low and seductive. Nick is taken by surprise and he stiffens up, as if he's never heard Jess' seductive voice. He straightens his back and stares at her. Her bangs are completely all over the place and her eyes are dark and mischievous. She sets her sights on the wine in the middle of the table and Nick follows her gaze. She nods her head drags one of the glasses closer to her with her index finger.

"I still haven't forgotten about earlier." She purrs, tilting the glass in the direction of the bottle. "Fill her up, Johnny."

"Sure thing, darlin'." He echoes back, unscrewing the cap and pouring the ice white liquid into her glass. He then does the same for himself and raises the glass to tip it with hers.

"For a wonderful night of elegance and fine dining." He toasts.

"And hot passionate sex." She says back.

They both laugh in unison and take drinks from their glasses.

"I see you got the Nutella out."

"Yes I did. I don't know why though, it's just gonna melt in the heat."

"So why are we ordering food if we have this?"

Nick looks at her with confusion.

"Jess I don't think this classifies as a dinner food."

"Who cares?" She takes the jar and takes the lid off, inspecting the contents. She melts into the delightful smell of melted hazelnut chocolate and dips a finger into it, scooping a generous amount out and licks it off her finger tip, closing her eyes and sighing at the taste.

"I haven't had this in months."

"Uhh, Jess?" Nick tries to intervene, but instead, she repeats the previous action, only going a lot slower and a lot more seductive.

"Jessica."

She ignores him.

"Jess!" He shouts, startling her. She freezes.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe _I _wanted some?" He smiles.

She widens her eyes, purses her lips, and dips her finger in once again, only this time she brings it to his lips and traces it along them. She keeps eye contact with him, pulls her hand away and licks the rest off.

"Go ahead." She whispers.

Nick stares at her, unsure of how he feels. Well sure as hell he's turned on, but this is a weird kind of turned on. This is like when your fantasies play out for the first time, but you never really thought about them enough to consider them vividly, thus deciding whether or not you actually like said fantasy. But Jess' eyes are so enchanting and so luring that he doesn't have time to think. He can taste the scent of lingering hazelnuts and his mouth begins to go all tingly.

"Well?"

"I- I uh…"

"Oh hell with it."

She dives forward across the table, knocking the wine and making the potatoes go flying across the ground. Her playsuit gets heavily doused in the liquid as she leans on the wood and crashes her lips onto his, savouring the taste of the wine and Nutella mix that linger in his mouth. He takes his hands and places them on her hips, letting his tongue slip in. She lets out a little moan and brings herself up onto the table. Her legs swing over the edge and around Nick as she latches onto him, letting him take control of the kiss. Her hands wander around the back of his neck, their hot breath colliding and making for an overwhelming break of passion. They both feel unbelievably enamoured as Nick pulls her in tighter and she lets her feet meet behind his back. They're too close to even try to make moves on each other, which they are completely fine with. They take in each other's embrace, their tongues battling for attention in each other's mouths. It moves slowly. Each of them wants to make the other feel every ounce of lust they have and are not about to let themselves get out of hand. Nick frees one hand from her hip and searches the chair for the lever that pushes it back. Jess groans against his lips and tilts her head back, looking up at the stars.

"Nick I don't wanna go inside."

"We don't have to." He says, his voice deep and alluring. She hears a click and suddenly the back of the chair drops, making Jess fall on top of him. She gasps and catches onto his shoulders, taking a deep breath.

"No warning?"

"Who said this was gonna be a safe journey?"

Jess giggles and sits up, straddling him. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and bites her lip, gazing down at him. She glances back at the table, seeing only the jar of Nutella still standing unharmed. She reaches over, takes it in her hands, pokes at a little curl of the soft chocolate and dabs little spots of it on her neck. He raises an eyebrow. Next, she begins tugging at the drawstring on his shorts, making them tighter.

"Jess what are you trying to accomplish?" He asks, glancing down at her.

"I changed my mind." She shrugs. "I don't like these shorts, why did you buy them?"

"Is that a hint?"

"What else would it be?"

"Well…" He begins, but she cuts him off and tugs him to her. She begins kissing him again, a little faster this time, and pulls away almost as soon as she starts. She tips her head off to the side, directing him towards the Nutella specs that decorate her neck, specifically her most sensitive spots. He complies without delay and lets his lips caress and press heavily on them, licking the sweet chocolaty taste and cleaning her ivory skin of them with as much pressure as possible. Every time, she reacts with a gentle moan, each one gradually becoming louder than the last. She throws one arm over his shoulder and bites down on her bottom lip, letting every sensation possess her as he moves so delicately, yet so intensely. He cups her face and plants another kiss on her lips, and then on her jawline, and then back to her neck, trailing pecks down to her collarbone, and just above the top of her playsuit, causing her to start and cling tighter onto the back of his shirt.

"Nick." She sighs into his kisses. "I'm glad we waited."

"Hey Jess?"

"Hmm?" Her breathing is laboured as she tries to calm herself from the make-out session he's just had with her neck.

"Take off your clothes."

"Out here?" She says, looking slightly surprised and very excited.

"Out here." He repeats. "And get more of that Nutella, I like it. A lot."

Jess's eyes widen and light up in sync with her smile. She doesn't hesitate with tugging the strings around her neck apart and flinging them over her shoulders. She raises her arms and looks to him with enticement. He tugs at the elastic, snapping it against her skin. She tucks her lips in and pushes them back out again.

"Are you gonna take it off or not?" She asks impatiently. He narrows his eyes at her, realizing that this whole taking it slow thing has completely worn off, and he tugs the top down, exposing her strapless yellow bikini top dotted with miniature white hearts.

"Jess you're making my job very difficult." He says, addressing the additional piece of clothing.

"But it's strapless." She says innocently, placing her hands on his chest. He slides a hand underneath the stretchy yellow fabric and rests it between her breasts. She groans and pulls at the sides, bringing it over her head and discards it beside them. And now she's beginning to realize that they may have overestimated the heat. She feels goose-bumps forming across her arms and leans in towards Nick. Her breasts press firmly against his chest as they begin to let their tongues wander in each other's mouths once again.

"I'm cold." She sighs.

Nick smiles against her lips. "You won't be for long."

He pulls his own shirt off, throwing it down beside hers.

"Here, kneel over me."

Without question, she props herself up onto her knees and leans forward, letting him cup one of her breasts in one hand and take the other in his mouth, nibbling gently down on it. She moans in pleasure, throwing her hair back behind her shoulders so he doesn't get a mouthful of stray hairs. He runs his tongue along her tender skin, making her flinch and call out in ecstasy.

"Oh my god."

She feels him grin and smacks the back of his shoulder. "Stop looking so smug."

He pulls back at looks up at her, still with that damn expression blanketed across his face.

"You can tell?"

"Keep going!" She insists, arching her back.

"Wait." He says, reaching behind her and pulling the jar back. The Nutella had begun to harden a bit which isn't the only thing that's hard, nonetheless, he dabs at it and spreads a tiny amount across her nipple.

"What in the name of-"

"Sssh, trust me." He reassures her, his eyes dark with lust.

He starts up again, getting a little rougher. He practically sucks the chocolate from her breast, making her breath catch and emit a silent moan. He hears her breathing quicken in pace and pulls back, not wanting to make her too ready before he can even work his real magic.

"Nick if you don't get those shorts off in five seconds, I'm done." She teases, running a hand over his crotch. "I don't like playing these silly games."

"I helped you." He says, raising both eyebrows. "You help me."

"Nick you're lying down. I'm sitting up. I'm doing like twice the work here."

"Don't be catty."

"So you're definitely not into the girl being dominant and you're definitely not into cats."

"I told you, I'm a dog person."

"Just take them off."

He is loving this Jess. He isn't sure what the hell comes over her during sex, but it sure is hot. He isn't sure where the line between irritated and aroused is drawn, but he doesn't care. He slips his shorts off, letting her pull them from his shins and throw them over her shoulder, not really bothering to check if they've accidentally gone flying over the railing.

"No boxers. Classy." She says with a very off-putting snap of her fingers.

"Never do that during sex." He says, shaking his head.

"Are we done with the Nutella?" She asks, running a finger along the edge of the opening of the jar.

"Unless you wanna put it on little Nick here…" He trails off.

"NICK! You know I'm not into that."

"Cool it, I know." He says, throwing his hands up defensively. "But it's only semi-ready so you need to do something about that."

She looks down at his penis, judging how much it will take to make it completely ready.

"Okay." She purrs, taking it in one hand. She begins to pump it up and down, holding eye contact with him as she does so.

"Fuck, Jess."

"You're so classy." She says sarcastically.

He can't respond, only throw his head back against the chair and clamp down on his teeth. Her small, soft hand working him so quickly is enough to make him lose it in less than two minutes. She moves faster and tightens her grip, biting her lip. "Okay, I think it's ready." He gasps, balling his hands into fists by his sides.

"No, I don't think so." She grins. She releases her grip and sits up, hovering just over it.

"You might be ready, but I'm not. Get to work Miller."

"You're being super dominant today."

"Yeah, well, I'm super horny today. Get working."

He obliges. She sits back, spreading her legs just around his erection. The cold air that moves against her sensitive skin makes her shudder. He leans up and takes his thumb, putting pressure on her clitoris. She groans and begins swivelling her hips, letting him know that what he's doing is still only worth a C+ in her books. He begins tracing circles, finding spots that make her moan louder every time.

"Jesus Christ." She gasps. "Nick that's amazing."

He feels the heat emitting from between her legs, almost tipping him over the edge. Her breathing becomes rapid and she's started to cry out a lot more than she was before. Nick feels himself slowly gaining back the dominance and decides to make it look that way. He takes his hand away, pulling her in to him.

"What the hell are you doing? That was going great!" She cries. Before she can protest, he steps over the arm of the chair, making her even more confused, and then he crawls back on, gently pushing her backwards onto the cushion. She takes hold of his wrists and pulls him down to her level, kissing him passionately.

"Thank God, I was running out of mean things to say to you." She smiles, her eyes filling back up with that Jess-like brightness that he was beginning to miss.

"And I was starting to get a little scared." He smiles back, caressing her cheek.

He delves back down to her neck, starting her moans up again. She feels him against the inside of her thigh and arches her back upwards to get a better feel for it.

"Hey Nick?" She asks between moans. "Could you move a little faster? I don't think I can handle more than one orgasm tonight." She says, her voice saddened.

Nick pulls back and looks at her, her cheeks are flushed a bright red and her eyes are wide, but tired.

"Are you okay, Jess?" He asks worriedly.

"I'm fine, I just really need to sleep after this."

"Okay." He says sweetly, thankful to see Jess back to her cute, childish self. As much as he cares about her wellbeing, he's far too revved up to stop now. He kisses her once more, with her giving back less than usual. He pulls back and takes a hold of his penis, placing it at the opening of her vagina. He looks back up at her to get the go ahead, she nods, and he plunges right in without a second guess.

They both moan in unison. Jess bites her bottom lip, not conscious of just how hard she's biting it and that there are probably going to be teeth marks afterwards. Being outdoors only encourages Nick to move faster. She lets out soft, tired moans with every thrust, clamping down her walls on him to give double the pleasure. Damn, does condomless sex feel good.

"Jessica." He groans, almost sure that the next few thrusts will be his last. An all time low for Nick Miller. She arches her back again, letting the pleasure build up.

"Oh my god, Nick." She breathes heavily "Nick."

He has to look up a few times to make sure what he's hearing isn't crying, and smiles up at her every time he moves out. He is practically holding himself back. His face has gone crimson and he is starting to hold his breath. She, on the other hand, is not shy of letting her body take over and do whatever the hell it wants. He takes one huge delve inwards, causing her to realize just how powerful this orgasm is going to be. She wakes up a little, propping herself up on her elbows. She digs her toes into the end of the chair, grabbing his hips for stability.

"Nick, oh my God!" She yells out, feeling her body start to tingle and enter into a state of exaltation.

"Oh my-!" She moans once more before finally feeling the overwhelming crash over pleasure that washes over her body in such an abrupt movement. She takes one massive gulp of air and relaxes back into the seat, riding out the waves of this orgasm that doesn't seem to want to stop. He moves a faster and faster inside of her, he too feeling the same sensation as soon as her walls begin to throb. He yells out a combination of inaudible swear words, pulls out, and falls on top of her, his cheek resting just below her breasts. Immediately, a pang of fatigue hits her and she smiles, looking up at the night sky. Above where they lay, the stars twinkle, almost like they're putting on a little show especially for them. She scoots over and he moves up to lie next to her. He leans on his side, caressing her hair as she continues to breathe heavily.

"You're amazing in bed, you know that?"

"Or in this case, on a recliner on a balcony." She giggles, swiping a finger across his cheek.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening in Hawaii, Miss Day."

"The pleasure is all mine."

"Hell yeah it is." He winks.

They lay silent for a little while, only the sound of their breath to be heard along with the faint sloshing of the ocean.

"Hey." Jess whispers. "I'm sorry if I was so grumpy today. I don't know what's up with me."

"It's fine, Jess. You've been with me for two years, I'm starting to rub off on you."

"Damn straight." She laughs, poking a finger at his chest. "I'm really tired."

"I can see that, I thought you were going to pass out during all that. And it wasn't even as bad as the other times."

"I guess I'm just getting old."

"No way are you getting old." Nick says softly.

"Can you carry me in?"

"Hey, just because you're not getting old doesn't mean I'm not."

Jess looks up at him, struggling to keep her eyes open. He smiles down at her, kissing her forehead.

"Of course I'll carry you in. Do you want me to get your clothes?"

They both look down at the mini pile of fabric laying at the foot of the chair.

"No, just get me to bed." She yawns.

He nods his head and pulls himself up, swaying slightly from lying down in such an awkward position for so long. He tries to put the pains in his legs to the back of his mind and bends down to scoop Jess up in his arms. She lets out a tired giggle and rests her head in the crook of his neck

"I love you." She mumbles into him, burying her face under a curtain of her hair. She is extremely light and still manages to smell so divine, so luscious. Nick kisses the top of her head. "I love you too."

He brings them both in through the glass patio doors, leaving their little mess behind them. The door comes to a gentle close and the sheer white curtain he had brushed aside comes floating back to its rightful spot over the doorframe. He looks down to say a final goodnight to Jess, but finds only a sleeping bundle cradled in his arms. Her breath is shallow and relaxed. He throws back the bed sheet with his free hand and lowers her down into the bed, bringing it back over her and tucking her tiny frame in. He strokes her raven hair, admiring her as she turns over to face him and tucks her hands under her cheek. He doesn't take his eyes off her as he too clambers into his own bed, turns off the light and whispers "Goodnight, Day."

He closes his eyes and settles down, feeling a lot more tired than he previously thought.

"Goodnight, Miller." Her tiny voice whispers back, barely getting the last syllable.

He cracks an eyelid open and smiles. And he can still taste the Nutella on his lips.


	10. Chapter 10

**This chapter is vital if you wish to continue reading on. The ending is weak, I will admit, but it's more of a beginning if I'm being totally honest. I hope you all enjoy!**

_Arriving back at the loft is kind of bittersweet. Being home is great, no doubt about that, but at the same time this meant that they had to endure living with each other all over again. Five days or five years, not being around each other twenty-four seven means that it'll take time to adjust when they have to give it up. The journey home started off rocky for everyone. Jess woke up and got all snappy about having bought the wrong tea which also made Nick snappy because they practically share emotions at this stage. Schmidt's head has been pounding since four in the morning and he had no painkillers that weren't designed for menstrual cramps or some other womanly necessity. Winston seemed to be the only one who woke up fresh and ready to get on the plane. He'd pre-packed his case and was already down at breakfast by the time the others figured out where they were and what events would unravel that day. Heck, even Schmidt forgot that they had to clear out of their rooms by noon. After Jess had showered, cleaned her face and dressed appropriately for L.A weather and Nick had checked the Cubs scores on his laptop, they raced downstairs to take what was left of the morning buffet and waited for Schmidt to check them out. He'd taken a while, and he was wearing Winston's sunglasses when he did it, but eventually, through a gruelling few minutes of intense agony rushing from his temples he managed to sign his name and hand back the keys to the rooms. They bid their little paradise goodbye from the taxi, seeing the extravagant brown and beige building get smaller and smaller as they drove out onto the highway and headed for the airport. _

_Their plane was delayed by two and a half hours due to a freak rainstorm back home. This only really made returning home even more depressing. Okay, so maybe rain is not a frequent occurrence and their weather is practically the same, but that doesn't replace the exotic twinge the atmosphere in Hawaii has and California lacks. They wait around on chairs at their gate, Jess asleep on Nick's shoulder and Winston laid out across two side-by-side seats, his knees bent at the armrest. Schmidt has gone off to find a bathroom so he can get rid of his nausea. _

_"The first thing we do when we get to L.A.X is buy a box of damn ibuprofen."_

_"Schmidt I don't think they sell those there." Nick says in a hushed tone._

_"Don't dash my dreams, Nick."_

_And that's how Nick made Schmidt hate him for a whole two and a half hours. Jess woke up an hour before they boarded with a powerful thirst in her throat. Nick gave her the water they bought the previous day and she took such a long drink from it that he was almost going to stop her in case she drowned. And then she fell asleep again, with her headphones in. Winston was reading People magazine, content with how things had panned out. Their gate was so incredibly isolated that he did not once feel guilty for not moving for some old woman or a family with a lot of kids. It was only them, some guy in a beanie and Beats wrapped around his neck and an old guy with what Winston presumed was his daughter with a map of L.A in her hands. Everyone seemed so uninterested in what those around them were doing and it was bliss. Not having Schmidt around meant his blood pressure could remain at a safe, not coronary damaging level, and Jess being asleep meant Nick couldn't be all cutesy with her and thus he did not feel the need to hurl every time he looked up. They boarded shortly after and Nick had a little bit of a challenge with waking her up. Every time she just kind of turned and dropped her head down to her chest. Though that could have been because Nick was such a wuss about being too 'mean' with her and didn't want to disturb her dream in case it was a really good dream and the world wasn't finished letting her experience it. And then Schmidt threw a magazine at her, and then he threw another magazine at her and she woke up and got really pissed off and then they got on the plane. Straightforward enough. They took off, Jess slept more and so did Nick. Schmidt sat quite a bit down the aisle away from them while Winston was directly across. He was left to his own devices and just played around with the little T.V in front of his seat to keep him entertained. The flight home was mundane. A lot of seats were left empty, because apparently going from Hawaii to Los Angeles is not nearly as appealing as they thought. Nick wakes up, orders Jess tea, because he's sweet like that, and then tries his best to keep it warm. They hit turbulence twice and Jess sleeps through it, but Nick was almost certain that he could hear Winston hyperventilating in reaction and he laughs a little, and then everything gets super boring again and Nick almost cheers when they hit the runway at L.A.X. At this point Jess has woken up and has hugged Nick for reasons unknown, but he doesn't question it. They get off the plane last. Crowds are something that none of them have quite gotten used to despite living in one of America's busiest cities. They go to baggage collection, get their bags, call for a taxi and arrive home. Jess is a little bubblier and a lot less tired. She talks a lot about how great the vacation was and how they should totally plan another one._

_"Yeah, without those two clowns."_

_"But then it wouldn't be a family vacation."_

_"Jess, out of all the time we spent there how much of it did we actually spend with them?"_

_"Good point. Let's go to Paris next year."_

_"Yeah right after I get this Mercedes I really wanted to match my seven story mansion with a zoo and a cinema."_

_"It's not that expensive."_

_"That's what people who have money say."_

_And then they're back at the loft. Schmidt fumbles in his pockets for the keys while the others wait around sitting on their suitcases like teenage tourists. He tries about twenty different keys on his keychain trying to find the right one. Nick swears at him a bit because no way in hell should he have forgotten which keys are the ones to the loft in the space of five days, but the underlying problem is that there's a T.V in there that hasn't been watched in over forty-eight hours and he just can't bear the thought of how lonely it must have been. _

_"Schmidt." _

_"I'm getting there Nicholas."_

_"Give him a chance, Nick, we're all tired."_

_"Jess I don't know if you know this, but I'm not a patient person and I do not give chances. Open the damn door."_

_"If you don't stop yelling at me I'll get into that elevator, leave the building, find the nearest sewer and drop these down them."_

_Nick raises his hands in defence. "Hey man, why's it gotta be like that?"_

_Then they finally hear the click of the lock unlocking and breathe sighs of relief. Jess goes straight to her room to get the unpacking out of the way and to put her clothes in the laundry hamper, specifically her wine-stained playsuit. _

**The next day**

Jess wakes up in Nick's bed, unaware she'd even crawled into it. Normally she would, but being away for a little while and doing the complete opposite muffles her thoughts and makes her forget the little aspects of her normal life. She is pretty much leaning on the edge of the mattress, threatening to fall off at any given moment. She clings onto his bedside table and pushes herself back up, rolling over onto her left side. He is also awake, and he is on his right side. He smiles at her.

"I was waiting for you to fall."

She yawns

"That's nice, glad to know you're concerned for my wellbeing."

"Any time." He says with a cocky grin. He gives her a good-morning kiss and props himself up on his elbow. It's eight-thirty and Jess is half expecting the sun to be setting. It's also weird not seeing the light shine through a giant window opposite the bed. Instead, all there is to compensate is Nick's plain khaki green curtains that haven't been pulled all the way across. She sits up against the bedframe, sighing.

"My throat hurts."

"It does?"

"Mm-hmm."

Nick gives her a worried look and makes his face all serious-like.

"You want me to get you something?"

"I think it's just jet lag, Nick. It's fine."

"It doesn't sound like it hurts."

She cocks her head. "Like I said, I'm fine."

"Okay." He says, throwing the duvet back. "I'm gonna get breakfast, you want any?"

"Yeah, get me toast."

Nick stares at her blankly.

"Just toast?"

"Just toast." She nods.

"No spread? None of that Nutella you dragged us around to look for."

"Hey!" She half shouts, pointing her finger at him. "Don't lie, you loved that Nutella."

"I can't argue with you. But seriously, no butter? Jam? Peanut butter."

"Just toast. And tea. But if it's the kind Schmidt bought with the eucalyptus leaves don't bother. I have to run to the store later anyway."

Nick makes his turtle face and turns towards the door.

_"Plain toast? Really Jess?" _He mutters to himself.

She pulls his side of the blanket over her and cuddles up into it. The sheets smell like him, as cliché as it sounds. He always leaves the sheets smelling like Old Spice and musty from the bar. It's one of those weird smells you're not supposed to be drawn towards, but so often she finds herself pretty much inhaling the scent from the fabric. It makes her kind of sad whenever Schmidt comes in to clean them in what he calls a '_subtle chemical bath with jasmine infusion_.' He strips the personality from them. It's like taking the stuffing out of a stuffed toy. But at least this time they haven't been washed and Jess can curl up in them and pretend she's in a cocoon of Nickness. She rests her head against the pillow and melts into the softness of his bed. And then she realizes she probably did want jam on her toast but that's it's too late now. She can hear the kettle boiling from the kitchen and half expects to hear Nick swear about forty times from burning his hands on the water. He isn't _that_ badly functioning, but he isn't exactly flawless either, so she's got grounds to be a little worried. Though then again, he was the one waiting for her to fall out of his bed and get a concussion for his own amusement. Karma is a bitch. Maybe he deserves a little injury.

She wants to close her eyes and go back to sleep but not only would she get a gruelling from Schmidt about not keeping up her side of the cleaning rota, she'd also probably never wake up. Her overwhelming fatigue is certainly out of the ordinary and way too time consuming to be okay. She vows to fix up her sleeping schedule and eat a little healthier than she has been. No more late night Oreos for Jess. She pulls her pajama sleeves up over her hands and bunches the sheets together at her chin. _So damn comfortable. _And maybe she'd have to stop sleeping on such blissfully soft beds.

Nick appears back in the doorway with a yellow tray decorated with sunflowers. He's really gotten the hang of not messing breakfast in bed up too much, except he's still got a little to learn when it comes to not over-filling the cup with steaming hot liquid that could leave him or her scalded for weeks.

"Here you go." He smiles, setting the tray beside her. "I put little bowls of like butter and honey and stuff in case you change your mind."

She beams up at him and kisses his cheek, sitting herself back up so she can place it over her lap. He steps back and inspects as she takes a bite of the bland toast.

"You're right." She says with her mouth half full. "It does need something."

Nick mentally praises himself for being so accurately tuned into Jess. It's as though when she speaks, Nick hears completely different words echoing out instead of what she actually says.

* * *

"Schmidt, what is this?"

He looks up from his laptop. "What is what?"

"This." She declares, slamming a green cardboard box down on the table, making the table quiver. " You know how much I hate this tea."

"What's wrong with it?"

Jess scoffs. "It tastes like leaves in water. I don't like it."

"I don't know if you're aware of this, Jessica, but all teas are primarily leaves in water."

"Fine. It tastes like rotting leaves in seawater. What's wrong with the one we normally buy?"

Schmidt takes the box and begins to analyse the back of it.

"I'll tell you why. This tea is a lot more natural than that factory altered, toxically fortified poison you insist on destroying your body with on a daily basis. And Bono drinks it. I read it in Martha Stewart Weekly, and it's written here, in fine print."

"Does it say that Schmidt is an easily influenced eco-freak in fine print?" She says sarcastically, folding her arms.

"Degrading me isn't going to make the tea taste any nicer."

"Nothing can make that stuff taste any nicer."

"What are we arguing about now?" Winston walks past the two and to the fridge, sporting the infamous yellow tracksuit slash banana skin that Nick had worn after his dad passed. Schmidt and Jess both pause to direct their fair shares of judgemental looks to him.

"Winston, what in the name of Abraham are you wearing?"

"Abraham, really?"

"I'm trying to reconnect with my faith."

Jess shakes her head. "I thought I burned that thing when I finally got Nick to stop wearing it."

"I had another one." Nick announces and raises his hand over the side of the couch. The three avert their gazes to where he is.

"Nick? How long have you been lying there?"

"Two hours."

"What? And you never thought to take my side?" Schmidt says, his voice sounding pathetically offended.

"Your side on what, Schmidt?"

"The tea issue!"

"Oh." Nick trails off. "Yeah I don't care about that."

Jess looks back and forth between Schmidt, Winston and Nick.

"We have like forty different things going on right now. I think we need some kind of order. The first thing being why the _hell_ Nick has two yellow tracksuits and why there's a huge gaping hole in one of the ass cheeks."

Winston widens his eyes and darts around to look at his pants. And sure enough, there's a giant patch of fabric missing from where it should be covering his bright green boxers.

"Awh man."

"That's why I had the second one." Nick chuckles. Though it's kind of weird because it sounds like the couch is talking and now Jess is laughing inappropriately. Her failure to maintain a bitter attitude towards Schmidt has made her even more frustrated.

"You couldn't have told me that before you gave it to me?"

Jess stares at Winston. "He _gave_ it to you? Why, what did you do to him?"

"What do you mean? Yellow's my color. Brings out my eyes." He says confidently and bats his eyelashes.

"Nick?"

Nick sits up to get a look at the goings on outside of his couch cage and upon seeing Winston in his incredibly jaundice state, tries to supress his laughter.

"You look like a mustard bottle." Schmidt intercepts.

"I thought it was a homeless pencil."

Jess rolls her eyes.

"That got worn out, Nick. You can't use the same two comparisons, it loses all sacredness."

"What are you talking about Schmidt?" She says, throwing the box of teabags into the trashcan.

"Jessica Day, you have indebted us of ten dollars and sixty-eight cents. I suggest you fish that out of there immediately or else I'll be forced to evoke your kettle privileges for a week."

She widens her eyes and stares at Schmidt for a good seven seconds before she can even utter the right combination of words to bring her animosity across in an appropriate way.

"You spent _TEN_ _DOLLARS_ on a box of tea that tastes like rotting skunk carcasses in the middle of a leafy swamp?"

"Where the hell did you get skunk carcasses from?" Winston asks, taking a bite into an apple from the fruit bowl.

"Well excuse me for wanting to treat my body to the antioxidants it deserves. Do you know how many chemicals are packed into those little granules in commercial teabags?"

Jess throws her hands up and starts to move out of the kitchen.

"I give up! Where are my keys?"

"Where are you going now?" Winston asks.

"To buy my own tea, you coming Nick?"

Nick looks up again and exchanges glances between Schmidt and Jess. He's in the predicament of taking sides between his girlfriend of two and a half years and his friend of over ten years. He makes a snap decision and nods towards Jess, taking his hoodie from the coffee table.

"Sure am."

"Traitor." Schmidt mumbles under his breath, retrieving the discarded teabags from the abundance of potato skins and chip packets. Winston just shakes his head and gets up from his seat, flocking to his room before Schmidt can even begin to rant about betrayal.

* * *

"Can you drop me off at the mall later? I'm going to meet Cece for lunch. I haven't seen her since we got back."

"Sure, no problem."

"Your hair looks funny today. When was the last time you got it cut?" Jess ruffles at his hair and giggles, making him brush up against the side of the window and almost swerve off the road.

"Jess! I can't multitask, you could have killed us."

"Then you should get your hair cut more often. You'd be surprised how many 'deaths by bad haircuts' come up in FBI files."

"Which crime shows have you been watching?"

"Who said I watched crime shows?"

Nick looks at her briefly and then back to the road, raising his thumb from the wheel.

"You just… you just said. Look, never mind, we're here." He cuts off and turns into the parking lot, scanning the relatively full spaces for an opening.

Jess takes one more ruffle at his hair, which is surprisingly soft.

"Have you been using my shampoo?" She asks, sniffing her hand. "Your hair smells like apples."

Nick scoffs and shakes his head, his eyes glazing over with a sheen of guilt and badly repressed awkwardness.

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about."

She tilts her head.

"Nick you're sweating. And isn't even that big a deal if you did. I'm not like Schmidt and his hair chutney."

"It just smells so good." He sighs, pursing his lips. She smiles to herself, finding it slightly adorable that he would go to such lengths to achieve sweet smelling hair. They drive around in circles for about five minutes before finally a woman who has been taking forever to load her wailing children into the back of the car pulls out of a fairly tight spot. Nick takes a chance and piles his own huge, tattered hunk of metal in between a Chevy SUV and a Mercedes Benz. It looks very appealing.

"I'm going to hit the car beside us if I get out, Nick."

"Well I have more room on this side if you want to climb over."

Jess gives him a '_seriously?' _look and he returns with a '_yeah, seriously'_ look and then Jess rolls her eyes

"Go ahead."

"Just don't push down on the handbrake when you step over it. It's not very stable."

Jess pauses and looks around the car. The glove compartment is being held up by a single piece of flimsy duct tape, the rear view mirror has two cracks in it and the chair she's sitting on is layered with bubble wrap as opposed to the once present argyle seat covers that Jess had made for him before he accidentally set them on fire last Halloween.

"Is anything stable in this car?" she asks with a raised eyebrow. Nick shrugs the comment off and eases the door open slightly, careful not to ram it into the side of the over-priced, shiny black vehicle beside him. Though it's not exactly the value of the car that he's worried about, it's more of the bulky, scary looking wrestler-type guy in the wife-beater sitting inside of it that makes him a little on edge. Once he shimmies out of the narrow space, he gestures for Jess to follow suit. She checks out her only exit and begins to slowly move up from her seat. Nick clamps his hand between his door and the car beside him to stop her from pushing it out any further. Her slender frame slides through the gap effortlessly, and she has opted for shorts today, so she doesn't have to worry about her dress catching onto anything. He slams the door shut and tries not to worry himself about the task of getting back in. He catches Jess by her hand and walks alongside her, squinting in the sunlight, which is nothing compared to what they experienced in Hawaii.

"Do you need to get anything? I don't have to get a basket do I?"

"No and no." Nick says. "Only you should probably get the tea that's on offer. It's cheaper."

"I want to spend all the money." She smiles deviously. "It's Schmidt's."

"Where did you get Schmidt's money?" He asks a little worriedly.

"Oh, I didn't steal it or anything. I told him I had none and gave him the puppy-dog look."

"You unexpected genius. Remind me to do that next time I need." He makes quotation marks with his middle and index fingers and winks. "Money for gas."

She laughs and swats his hands down. "Don't bleed him dry. He isn't completely terrible."

"I beg to differ. I've known him longer."

"Let's just get the tea. I'm running late."

She skips off ahead of him, following the overhanging signs that read 'Tea & Coffee.' Nick shakes his head and watches after her.

"Is it on offer?" He yells down the aisle. She glances up at him and nods. "But they have one here for seven dollars and I'm craving seven dollar tea, specifically."

He chuckles and walks up to her. He stands in front of her and looks down at her. She's smiling up at him and her eyes are smiling with her. They're extra blue today. The light in the store makes them virtually transparent and his reflection is clearly visible in her light blue irises. It's almost as though her eyes are made up of tiny little blue crystals with a billion different shines to them. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her in, her chin hitting gently off his chest. She giggles and tightens her grip on the tea.

"You're such a sappy romantic."

"I'm your sappy romantic." He winks.

"That is true."

He leans down and kisses her tenderly, not sure of what compels him to be so enticing in the middle of completely unenticing set-ups. Nevertheless, she doesn't complain and gives into the kiss. She breathes deeply and feels her lips tingle with excitement once he pulls away to look back at her.

"Now you're super late."

She beams and hits his shoulder playfully.

"I'm gonna get tardied so hard."

He looks at her, confused.

"Sorry, it's teacher slang."

"I gathered."

He takes the teabags from her and wraps his free arm around her waist, guiding her to the cash register. Jess shakes her light blue purse with a white bow as the clasp in front of him and opens it, exposing a crisp, twenty dollar bill, fresh from the Bureau de Schmidt.

"Someone's gonna run up behind you and snatch that right out of your hand."

"I doubt that." She says, holding the money between her two fingers beside her face.

"Oh really?"

"Really."

"Well go pay for the tea before someone does."

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Stop that."

"Stop that."

"Nicholas."

"Nichola-."

"Nick!" She yells, her mood doing a complete three-sixty to the other side of excited, playful Jess. He raises his palms defensively and apologizes, his tone still laced with giddiness.

"Sorry. Schmidt made me irritable. Actually he probably didn't but he's the easiest one to blame."

"I understand. He's a viable applicant for making everyone around him pissed off."

She pays for the tea and they leave the store the same way they came in, holding hands. Only Jess' grip is a little looser than before and the brightness in her eyes has dimmed down quite a bit, metaphorically of course. The car that was once beside them is gone, so Jess gets back in without much hassle.

"What time did you say you'd meet Cece at?"

She checks her phone for the time. "Two thirty."

"Okay, so we have five minutes to get there. Better floor it." He grins and slams his foot down on the accelerator and swerves out of the spot, making Jess shift sideways in her seat.

"Nick, seriously, I don't think she'll mind if we're late. I'd rather not die today, I've got too much to do."

"I know, but I just really wanted to try that."

"And do you feel accomplished now that you have?"

He shrugs. "Not really."

* * *

"Okay, so text me if you need a ride home."

She shuffles around with her shoulder bag and fixes her hair, even though there isn't much wrong with it. She shakes her head quickly, almost panic-like, and smiles back at him.

"Okay." She nods. She wraps an arm around his neck and kisses him on the cheek, the scratchy feel of his stubble grazing lightly over her lips. She leaves a light stain of pink gloss behind her as she pulls away and smiles once more.

"But I think Cece's gonna bring us home."

"Still, just call if you need me."

He sounds almost like a worried father letting his teenage daughter go out on her first date, except he's super adorable and he _isn't_ her father. No matter how much he believes what her father had told him simply to put him down in himself about the idea of them ever being more than friends, he's the polar opposite with a much better dress sense.

"I will, don't worry."

"Okay." He half-whispers. He watches her step out of the car and go to close it just as fast as she'd opened it.

"Hey." He stretches his arm out to stop it from closing completely. "I love you."

She smiles sweetly and cocks her head to her shoulder.

"I love you too."

He smirks.

"I love you more."

She rolls her eyes.

"Miller I am not doing this, I'm already late."

"I know, I was just messing with you."

She rolls her eyes again, but playfully so, and slams the door shut. Hey, it's already disintegrated into a broken mass of fuel and a rubber/metal combination. She walks casually to the entrance of the mall, waving Nick off as he drives out of the parking lot and back onto the road. As soon as he's gone, she scrolls through her contacts and finds Cece's number, the feeling of guilt lingering in the pit of her stomach and raiding her consciousness. She really shouldn't be lying to him, it isn't exactly a big deal that she has to visit her doctor. I mean, she had been burning up and overly tired for the past three days, so it's only logical that she get it checked out. Except Nick? Well, Nick could have responded one of two ways if she had requested he take her to the clinic.

Number one: He would _freak the hell out_. Like, he would full on panic. He would assume the absolute worst and run through endless pages of online solutions to the symptoms Jess had been experiencing. He'd insist on coming into the doctor's with her and then he'd try to outshine the doctor by making snide comments about the things he had found online.

Number two: He would complain that doctor's are like giving into the governments secret money racket and that she would be deemed as the vulnerable sort who would seek medical attention repeatedly after this visit. And he just couldn't live with that, so he'd try to form his own miracle potion out of Schmidt's multi-vitamin collection.

Neither one of which seems particularly appealing.

So she proceeds with dialling Cece's number and waiting around outside the entrance to the mall, trying to put herself at ease until she answers.

"Hey Jess." Her tired, dragged out voice sounds down the phone.

"Hey, I'm here." She says, biting her bottom lip nervously.

"Okay, give me a sec, I'll be right there."

"Thanks, Cees."

"Don't thank me babe, it's what I'm here for."

"To help me tip-toe around my." She pauses, trying to coming up with an appropriate term for what Nick's status is exactly. "Boyfriend?"

"Exactly." The faint sound of a buckle clicking into place echoes through the speaker. "Okay, I'll see you in five."

"Mkay, see ya then."

* * *

Jess sits in the waiting room with Cece, who's flicking through a glossy magazine with Jennifer Lopez as cover-girl. She's been analyzing a poster about cervical cancer checks for the past fifteen minutes, in which time she has learned nothing about the condition other than the fact that advertisers really have no taste for fonts.

_Comic Sans is not a good look for a serious issue that deserves Times New Roman at the very least, Mayfield Women's Clinic._

She isn't worried as such. She's well due a routine check up as it is, and anyway, it's not as if she's going in to meet her impending doom with some scary guy with a chainsaw and a face mask. She's going to get to the bottom of her fatigued state and why every time she goes to drink water, she feels the urge to bring up every morsel of the meals she's eaten in the last five days.

Cece looks up from an article about the 'newest advancement in dermal technology' to see her friend, her mouth gaping and her eyes squinted to read the fine print on the mediocre poster across from them.

"Hey."

"Hmm?"

"Jess, if you stare at that any longer your eyes just may retreat to that size."

Jess side eyes her and shakes her head.

"Right."

Cece places a hand over Jess' as it rests on the wooden arm rest between them.

"You're gonna be fine. Trust me. It's probably just a side effect from the pill, it happens with age."

She furrows her brow. "What do you mean, '_with age?' _I'm not even halfway to forty yet."

"You're not exactly eighteen either, sweetie."

Cece smiles and gives Jess a look of reassurance. "You'll be fine, I promise."

"Jessica Day?"

A short, stocky woman with curly blonde hair and pasty skin emerges from the white door by reception with a clipboard in her hand. She smiles a smile even brighter than Jess'. She is dressed in a clinically white lab-coat with a stethoscope draped around her neck. Jess stands up nervously, keeping her eyes locked on Cece's. Cece nods towards the door and pats her forearm as she moves away.

"I promise."

Jess shuffles towards the woman and shakes her hand politely, her jaw clenched nervously. She disappears behind the white door, followed quickly behind by the doctor, who's name tag, though unclear, seems to read 'Sherry Rodriguez.' Once she's gone, the room is baron. The only two people present are Cece and the receptionist who has returned from her coffee break she'd taken a few minutes ago.

The time passes slowly and Cece is slowly running out of magazines to skim through. She checks the clock every few seconds, anxious to get Jess out of there.

Minutes pass.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

Twenty minutes.

Twenty five minutes.

Thirty six minutes.

And finally. Thirty-six dragging, mundane minutes later, Jess emerges alone with a green paper, probably a prescription, and a very pale face. She has a small piece of gauze over the crook of her elbow. Cece stands up, eager to hear what Jess has to say.

"Well?"

Jess approaches her, raising her arms and letting them fall down at her sides.

"I uh... I have toxoplasmosis."

"You have the what now?"

She laughs lazily at her friend's confusion.

"It's nothing, it's just this parasite. I must have contracted it in Hawaii."

Cece takes a deep, relieving breath and exhales, placing a hand over her chest.

"So you're okay? It's not serious or anything?"

Jess shakes her head no.

"I caught it early, I just have to take antibiotics and it should clear up."

She looks at Cece and lets her head drop, sighing into the action. She runs a hand over her abdomen. Cece raises an eyebrow and notices immediately that Jess' reaction is only half-hearted. She takes a step closer to her and lowers her head to level with Jess.

"Hey, you okay? Aren't you happy you're not dying?"

Jess breathes deeply and looks up, her eyes glazing over with tears.

"Oh god, Jess, is there more?"

Jess nods and blinks away the tears that are threatening to spill.

"Uh, yeah." She says, shakily. "I'm..."

Cece stares at her worriedly, placing a comforting hand on Jess' shoulder. Her expression is mixed with a watery half-smile and sheer anguish. She takes a moment before finally swallowing back lingering sobs and opening her mouth to speak.

"I'm pregnant."

And now the tears have started to spill.

Cece freezes. Usually she knows what to say in these situations. Should she be jumping up and down, screaming congratulations so loud that the guys could probably hear her back at the loft? Should she be meeting Jess' reaction with lost words and commiserations? It's a more than sensitive issue with Jess, and any slip up could ruin her for weeks.

"That's... that's great, babe! I'm so happy for you."

Jess shakes her head, forcing a smile, but it doesn't last long. She falls forward into her best friend's arms, letting out muffled sobs into her shoulder. Her body shakes violently as she rouses every emotion from the depths of her subconscious. Cece wraps her arms tightly around Jess, rubbing her back soothingly in the hopes of calming her down. She cries for a while, ignoring the pep talk that Cece tries to give her. Processing everything that's just happened occupies every ability to respond and she physically can't bring herself to stop crying. It isn't until a few minutes later that she realizes that she's sitting down.

"This can't be happening." She stifles. "We used protection, double the protection. How is this _happening?_"

Cece pulls away, but keeps her hands rested on her shoulders. Jess' eyes are destroyed with mascara smudges and she's still whimpering.

"Jess, I know this is hard. I know that you never wanted for this to happen, but you have to take this in your stride."

"I don't want it to happen again. I can't handle it. I won't be able to, Cece."

She falls forward again, and cries harder than she had been. Cece catches her and pulls her in to a hug, resting her chin on Jess' shoulder.

"I know Jess." She closes her eyes and shakes her head, wishing to be woken up from this nightmare. "I know."


	11. Chapter 11

** Disclaimer: I will be uploading two chapters today because I feel like this needs to be broken into two. I don't own New Girl or any of the characters.**

"Hey Schmidt did you put the dishes in a different cabinet?"

"Sure did, and I put the cups where the dishes used to be."

"Okay." Nick says, confused. "Can I ask why?"

"I needed a change of scene."

"I don't like it, it's confusing."

"What's so confusing about it?"

Nick raises his voice slightly. "I don't see why we have to have change, Schmidt. I don't like it, it's not right. Change is never a good thing."

"What about when Jess moved in?"

He pauses and stares into space.

"That's different."

"Sure."

They are interrupted by the familiar click of the door opening and shutting. Jess heads immediately for the couch and grabs the blanket hanging over the back of it. Cece follows behind her, in the direction of the kitchen and takes a seat beside Schmidt.

"Hey guys." Nick says from behind the wooden cabinet doors.

"Hey Nick. You okay in there?"

"Yeah." He sighs, bringing four cups down onto the table. "Schmidt's just trying to make my life one big obstacle."

"Oh exaggerations Nicholas." He turns to Cece. "I merely changed the locations of the dishes and Nick is having trouble coming to terms with it."

"Do you realize how depressing that sounds?" She asks, digging her phone out from her bag. The guys shrug her comment off.

"Tea or coffee?"

Cece shakes her head respectfully and leans forward, resting her head in the palms of her hands.

"I'm good."

She looks behind her to see Jess lying inwards on the couch, covered with the blanket. She turns back to face Nick and coaxes him in with her index finger.

"Make Jess tea and then go talk to her."

He gives her a confused look.

"Why, is she okay? What happened?"

"Don't worry about that, just talk to her."

Nick nods in sync with Cece and boils the water, tapping his foot impatiently as the steam rises up and condensates against the wall, forming tiny droplets that disappear almost as quickly as they'd appeared. He finds Jess' favourite cup and fills it with the tea they'd bought earlier. He heads over to her, careful not to let it spill, and sets it down on the table. She doesn't look up at him. He sits at her feet.

"Hey Jess." He says softly with a smile on his face. "How was your lunch?"

He tickles beneath her arm, making her jolt. She turns on her side and drops the blanket a few inches down her face. Her tear-glazed eyes are bloodshot and smudged black from her mascara. From what he can see, Nick notices them crease up, as though she were forcing a smile.

"You brought me tea." She mumbles.

"I sure did."

She sniffs and stretches out her arms, like a child wanting to be picked up. She leans in to him and wraps her arms around his neck. He accepts it lovingly and pulls her in, rubbing his hands along her back. She rests her head in the crook of his neck and he feels the warm sensation of her tears drop onto his skin. Not only is it a reaction that he doesn't think twice about, it's also one that he has complete control over. He never had this before. Not with any of his previous girlfriends, not ever did he have such affection within him, pulsing through his veins like it's something he's always known. He doesn't say a word, the gesture says everything that needs to be said. He rocks her back and forth gently in his arms, not concerned about the why and the what, but just of getting her to feel like he's there for her and he isn't going to leave her, a crying mess, cocooned on the couch.

He hears the door open and close again and immediately knows that Cece has forced Schmidt from the loft. He's eternally grateful for her being there, otherwise he'd have probably assumed Jess had just gone to nap or something and would have left her there for the night, completely oblivious to the emotions she's experiencing as she lets out silent sobs onto his t-shirt. She pulls away from him and looks down, tears still falling from her eyes, racing down onto the brown leather of the couch. Nick places a finger under her chin and tilts her head up to look at him, his expression amorous and gentle.

"Hey, I don't like seeing you cry." He says in a low, hushed tone. He wipes her lingering tears away with his thumb and she smiles subtly, closing her eyes as he does so.

"I'm sorry." She chokes.

"Don't be sorry. It's what I'm here for."

He waits to see if she says anything about the reasons behind her sudden breakdown, but she just turns and rests her cheek on his shoulder again, wrapping her arm around his waist. He strokes her hair, which has knotted from being bundled up under the blanket, and kisses the top of her head. He stares at the large white cup on the table, painted with fairies with steam rising from the hot contents inside it. A forgotten gesture in the midst of the moment. He doesn't expect for her to confide in him, not that she has a reason not to, it's just the simple fact that Jessica Day talks a lot about being openly emotional, but rarely practices what she preaches when it comes to the heavier stuff. If she isn't happy with the brand of butter they buy, she'll rant about it for weeks, and even try to assemble a court hearing in the living room to weight out her arguments, but if she feels emotionally vulnerable, she'll lock herself away and hope to mend herself without assistance. It's an unhealthy imbalance that Nick has come to accept about her. And so, he holds her tightly to his chest, hopeful that she'll better before the day is out.

* * *

Nick wakes up at two in the morning to hear the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. He senses the emptiness of the room, bar himself, and immediately picks up on the absence of her usual shallow breathing down his neck as she sleeps. He turns on his side to see thrown back sheets and her clothes have been picked up off the floor. The window is open, drawing in a gentle draft to coincide with the uncomfortable heat his room has. He darts up from his bed and treks through the clutter of clothes and plastic bottles out into the hallway and to the bathroom. The door is slightly ajar, a dim light spilling out across the floor and cast along the wall. He knocks and leans back against the wooden doorframe.

"Hey Jess, you in there?" He half-whispers, not intending on waking up Winston considering he isn't the nicest person when disturbed. He knows that if it so happens that she _is_ in the shower, she'll barely hear him. He debates going in without her consent, I mean, she _is _his girlfriend. There's hardly anything unusual about him going to his own bathroom, meanwhile, her showering at such an ungodly hour is. Maybe she wants privacy. After today, it seems like the only plausible explanation. After she'd finally stopped crying, she retreated back into his room to nap, probably drained from the hectic few hours she'd had. He still isn't sure as to why she'd been crying, but she'd obviously found sanctuary being alone. Perhaps showering in the dead of night is the only suitable setting for her to be within her own mind set. He hesitates before finally pushing open the door, ignoring the lectures his conscience is yelling at him to turn back and leave her to her own devices.

"Jess?"

She pulls the shower curtain aside, wrapped in a flimsy blue towel with her hair pinned back, the tips dripping.

"Hey Nick, what are you doing up?"

He stands at the door, his hands clasped tightly together as he takes in the sight of her. She steps out of the shower and as soon as she inches toward him, he can already feel his senses being tantalized by the relaxing scent of lavender from her body-wash.

"What am _I _doing up? What are _you_ doing showering in the middle of the night?"

She frowns.

"I needed to clear my thoughts."

"In the shower?"

"It was the most relaxing place I could think of. Anyway, I didn't get to shower since we got back."

Nick can't help but notice her bloodshot eyes. He makes the ignorant assumption that it's a result of being under hot water that has irritated them, but it seems highly unlikely, considering the shakiness in her voice, masked vaguely by the calm façade she is forcing into it.

"Okay, so are you coming back to bed or?"

"Actually, I might just stay up and catch up on my crocheting. I'm not all that tired."

"Are you alright?" He asks, pushing the conversation in the direction of potentially risky territory. Jess shakes her head and looks down at the tiles on the floor, inhaling deeply.

"I'm fine." She nods. "My sleeping patterns are just crazy at the moment."

She undoes her hair-tie and lets her semi-damp curls fall and tumble down over her shoulders. He stands awkwardly in front of her, sudden fatigue washing over him.

"Okay, well I'm gonna head back to bed. You sure you're okay?" He asks sceptically. She smiles tiredly and nods once more. She could not make it any more obvious that she's hiding something, nevertheless, Nick takes her turning back towards the mirrors as his cue to leave. He kisses her cheek and smiles at her.

"Goodnight Day."

"Night."


	12. Chapter 12

"I think you need to see a psychiatrist, Jess."

"Cece, I've tried that and it never worked. It always just made me worse. Maybe I'm just destined to be forever haunted by this."

Jess sits on her own on a bench in the park, the sky is still a dusky colour, littered with millions of endless twinkling stars. It's bitterly cold, and even the huge parka Jess had dug out of Nick's closet isn't doing much to keep her warm. Her thoughts had been jumbled and sleeping was too much of an open space for her to reminisce and be within her own train of thought. She had called Cece almost an hour ago to keep herself occupied, much to her tired friend's dismay.

"Look babe, you literally got the news twelve hours ago, it's not going to be easy coming to terms with it so soon, but you have to at least try to move on, as harsh as it sounds."

Jess can feel the tears begin to well up in her eyes and she bites her lower lip, trying not to start bawling on a bench in the park at four in the morning.

"Should I tell Nick?" She asks, slightly scared of Cece's answer.

"Well he's gonna wanna know why you're crying so much sweetie."

"What if he reacts badly?" She asks, trying to put those kinds of thoughts to the back of her mind.

"Then screw him." Cece responds flatly. "If he reacts badly, then he's not worth keeping. Listen, I love you but I'm going to fall asleep and that's much more offensive than me just hanging up on you."

Jess blinks back her tears. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

"I'll swing by the loft and we can watch movies and I'll bring blankets and ice-cream. That sound good?"

Jess manages a half-hearted smile. Cece always knows how to make things that are completely dreadful, a little less dreadful.

"That sounds great." She sighs. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow. Get some sleep."

* * *

She hears the line go dead and sits for a while, her head in her hands as she tries to muster up the courage to go back to the loft and try to sleep. She doesn't expect it to come easy. It's almost terrifying to think about what her subconscious could come up with while she isn't in control of it. Alas, she has work in the morning and she'll only be twice as bad if she goes in both tired and emotional. She makes the snap decision to walk back home, which is about a fifteen minute walk, instead of calling Nick. Facing him could be possibly the worst thing for her, considering the guilt that consumes her for not telling him about her trip to the doctors. Not only has she lied to him twice, but she's also keeping important information from him. Everything is just _her_ fault. That's what the voice inside of her head is saying to her. None of this would be happening if she'd just told him flat out that she wanted to go to the doctor.

She takes one of Schmidt's sleeping pills and washes it down with water before heading for her own room. She so badly wants to crawl in beside Nick and just cuddle with him until she eventually falls asleep, but it's such a horribly foreign feeling that it almost sickens her to even look at his bedroom door. One hand masks the view to her left, while the other reaches to open her bedroom door. Her bed is made neatly, pillows lined symmetrically on either side. Her floral bed-sheets welcome her in as she throws herself onto them and buries her face in the pillows, forcing her eyes shut. She tries to shut off her thoughts, determined to make sure that nothing can invade this much needed slumber she's about to sink into. She tosses and turns, struggling to find a comfortable position. The light of her phone flashes over the ceiling, a minor distraction. She hits the off button and rolls onto her back, staring up at the chipped paint above her. She feels herself becoming gradually drowsier. It only takes a few more minutes before she's finally drifted off in the darkness of her room, subconsciously shivering from the lack of covers.

* * *

Hours pass and Nick wakes up a little while after Jess finally managed to fall asleep. He lays around for a little while, resting his head on his forearm thrown back behind him. He hadn't slept easily considering his earlier encounter with Jess in the bathroom. He isn't even aware that she left the loft. He looks at the clock at his bedside; six twenty-eight a.m. The sun is shining brightly through his green curtains, summoning him from his bed. He stretches and stumbles out of his room to see Jess' door open. As usual as it seems, he can't help but go in, hopeful that he'll find her bundled up under her duvet. She sometimes sleeps in her own room, it's a personal preference that he doesn't feel like he has the authority to question. It's not like she _has_ to sleep in his room, admittedly, he is known for stealing the sheets. Her room is lit only by the morning sunlight pouring through the huge window her bedroom is blessed with. She's curled up, her hands joined together on the underside of her cheek. Nick stands in the doorway, his eyes heavy with sleep. He watches her admirably for a bit before climbing in beside her. This overwhelming urge to be beside her, should she start crying again, consumes him. He refuses to let her feel alone in any case, no matter what. He rests his head near hers, smiling as she nestles herself closer to him, as though she senses his presence. He kisses her forehead and closes his eyes unwillingly. And before he knows it, he's asleep again on her bed.

The loft is quiet. Schmidt has spent the night at Cece's, for reasons unknown, and reasons no one wants to know about, and Winston's set off to work by the time Nick feels her stir beside him. He opens his eyes to narrow slits, catching sight of her. He hears frantic whimpers as she tosses her head back and forth in a panic. He sits up abruptly, placing a hand on her shoulder and shaking her to wake her up. She isn't saying much, but she's half-screaming and silent tears are spilling from her closed eyes.

"Nick!"

"Jess? Jess, I'm here love." He says calmly, shaking her a little harder. "Wake up, Jess."

She continues to cry out, her body refusing to let her wake up. Nick panics and does the next best thing he can come up with; he slides his arms under her and lifts her up to his chest, cradling her flushed face with his hand. She flinches at the action, her eyes opening widely, completely drowned in tears.

"Oh god." She sobs, shaking violently. She wraps her arms around Nick's waist tightly, as if he were about to vanish.

"I'm here." He repeats, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. "I'm here."

"Nick." She mumbles into his shirt. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, everyone gets nightmares." He says in a hushed tone, resting his chin on the top of her head. He feels her quiver as she breaks out into loud whimpers once again. He becomes a lot more concerned than he had been. Not only had Jess failed to recover from the previous day, but she seems a hell of a lot worse. These tears aren't from anything miniscule, like seeing a puppy die in a PETA commercial, they're from something a lot more major, something Nick feels obligated to know about and to help her with it. Though now, as she lays against him in such a heartbreakingly upset state, he decides it's best to let her cry out everything before she even begins to explain. Her tiny stature is almost fragile, and her delicate, ivory skin is drained of its usual crimson tint, nonetheless, it's incredibly warm, almost burningly so.

"Nick." She chokes, trembling as she speaks.

"Yeah Jess?"

"I lied to you yesterday."

Nick pulls away and looks down at her, meeting her watery blue eyes with his.

"What do you mean 'you lied to me'?" His voice is deep and husky.

She swallows, her breath catching in her throat.

"I didn't go for lunch with Cece. I um… I went to the doctor's office."

He gives her an inquisitive look, not exactly sure where this is going.

"I wanted to find out why I was sleeping so much, ironically." She sniffs. "I have this parasite called toxoplasmosis."

"You have what? Is it dangerous? Jess, I can't have you being sick, I can't lose you." He says, alarmed at the news that she has some fancy-parasitic disease.

"No, no it's not dangerous, it's just-."

He immediately cuts her off by pressing his lips to hers in relief. He cups her face lovingly, pulling back into his safety. "Thank god."

She looks up at him, a little taken aback by the sudden gesture.

"Is that why you were crying yesterday, Jess?"

She sucks her lips inwards, staring up at him, the pain of the additional confession she has yet to admit burning inside of her.

"No, it's not." She sighs. "I was crying for a whole other reason."

Nick becomes rigid, getting slightly worried at the seriousness in Jess' voice. She's still shaking and her eyes are not free of tears just yet.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" He asks, resting himself against the wall, with her still held close to him. There's a lengthy pause before she can even begin to say anything. Her thoughts are clouded and she's only just getting over her nightmare. Something that has made sleep seem so horribly unappealing that she regrets every coming back to the loft. She'd have been better off freezing to death on that bench in the park, waiting for the sun to rise and warm her up again. She runs her hand across Nick's abdomen, taking in his exceptional warmth and the consoling grip he has on her free hand. She shakes her head and forces a smile up at him.

"It's nothing, I'll get over it eventually."

"You sure? 'Because you know I'm here for you, Jess. I don't like seeing you so upset, it hurts."

She looks up at him, eyes wide. His heart-warming compassion is like a natural remedy that almost numbs her once distressing thoughts. She reaches her arms higher around him and pulls him in for yet another kiss. She's far too exhausted to make it any hotter than a simple, comforting kiss. She wants to flop back down onto the bed and just lie there for the rest of her life. She needs Nick here, but at the same time, she doesn't want the guilt of her subconscious nagging at her as he lies beside her, judging her for not being honest with him, punishing her with searing and painful flashbacks of ten years ago.

"I love you." She whispers, her breath brushing over his lips. "And I promise, I'll be fine."

Nick nods and looks into her tired eyes, still not fully convinced. Back there, in the depths of Jessica Day's thoughts, linger an abundance of stories that are threatening to be let out. The strain in her eyes to keep them back is unnerving, considering this is a first for him; seeing her so vulnerable, yet brave, though he isn't sure in the face of what. He wants to shake it out of her, and almost regrets waking her up. Perhaps she'd have muttered something of significance to the situation as the nightmare potentially brought it all to light. Everything she can never bring herself to say while conscious. Her secretiveness is almost offensive. Like she doesn't trust him, except he knows that isn't true. Aside from Cece, Nick knows so much more about Jess than anyone else that he is aware of. He knows that she tends to lock away a myriad of thoughts in order to keep others happy, but what he does not know, is that she's keeping these specific ones locked away to keep her sanity.

"You wanna go back to sleep, Jess? You were kind of interrupted earlier."

With no way out, no way of explaining _why _she can't sleep without letting it slip, Jess can only nod in agreement and fall back onto Nick's outstretched arm and bury her head into the crook of his neck. She has work in over an hour, which is some leeway to getting out of this extremely tense situation. However, for that hour, she vows not to close her eyes; she refuses to see again, what she'd seen in her nightmares.


	13. Chapter 13

**I'm sure you all can guess I am ****_terrible_**** at pet names, but I felt like this needed one or two just for reasons.**

**Also, some of you have been asking about the whole wine situation, and I'd just like to make it clear that I am aware that it's very unorthodox for a woman to be drinking whilst pregnant but you'll understand why I put it in in the next few chapters.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own New Girl or any of the characters**

* * *

Jess makes the not so-wise decision to blow off work and relax at home with Cece. As she'd hoped, she did not fall asleep. Neither did Nick, but she didn't know that. For the most part, she stared blankly out the window at the tops of old, abandoned office buildings adjacent to the loft until her alarm sounded a little while after. Cece phoned her boss for her and made up a story that Jess had family issues to deal with in Portland and wouldn't be back until the following week, and even that didn't seem like a just time space for her to absorb the events of the previous day, let alone make sense of _or_ come to terms with them. Old memories are fresh in her mind and are draining out any trickle of happiness that Jess is normally bursting with, driving her back onto the couch, with no appetite and a very minuscule desire to be around people. On the table in front of her are two half-empty tubs of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough ice-cream and pink wine. They had spent most of the day watching old Disney movies, specifically _The Lady & The Tramp_, because Jess always finds the unrequited love between two animated dogs from completely different words to be refreshing and just as equally adorable. However, she'd felt cold towards it the whole way through and made Cece turn it off.

They sit in silence for the better part of two hours. Every few minutes, Jess will feel everything become overwhelming again and she'll start crying, and Cece will take her in under her arm and let her cry there for a while. If there's anything that Cece knows that no one else does, is that Jess isn't going to be easily reparable from a simple pep talk with generic optimistic quotes from 'wise' philosophers. Only Cece knows the real reasons behind her tears, the tiny stories that each one holds. It's one of the few rarities that she and her still cherish as best friends, and even if it is a little selfish, she almost doesn't want Jess to confide in Nick, as if to tarnish the last piece of information they share confidentially between each other. Nonetheless, Nick has been the best boyfriend to Jess, and she doesn't need anyone to make her feel otherwise. Nicholas Miller sauntered into Jess' life, all scruffy and dressed in unwashed plaid shirts with a beer in his hand ninety per cent of the time and practically whisked Jess off into some little fantasy whereby she could live out those fairy tales she'd so often raved about as a teenager. He sung to her within one week of knowing her when she'd been stood up by that asshole at that restaurant, sabotaging his chances of getting back together with Caroline, and then proceeded to encourage her to collect her things from Spencer's house and start fresh in the safe haven of her new home. He has every freaking right to know about the darkest parts of Jess' past; the events that no one could ever guess existed underneath all those polka dots and hair-bows and singing. She was always a happy, confident, flamboyant person, but for one year in the late spring of 2003, her entire personality changed, and it was possibly the most terrifying year for her, one that she vowed never to relive, one that left her so mentally scarred that she forced herself through brutal psychological changes.

"Did you get _any_ sleep last night?" Cece asks softly, handing Jess a tissue from the Kleenex box. Jess accepts it and wipes at her eyes, shaking her head.

"I did."

"That's good, at least you got _some_ sleep. It's one of the best remedies, and it keeps the dark circles away." She says playfully in the hopes of lightening some of the depressing atmosphere the room is filled with.

"I slept for two hours and then Nick woke me up." She sighs, her voice nasally.

"Nick woke you up?"

"Mhm."

"Why the _hell_ did he wake you up?"

Jess looks at her best friend, her eyes bloodshot and heavy with fatigue. She gives her a forlorn frown, knowing that she'll soon catch on.

"Did you have the dreams again, Jess?"

She shuts her eyes tightly and begins crying again, this time, not seeking refuge in the fabric of her friend's white sweater, but in the cold leather of the couch. Cece watches on in sympathy, running a comforting hand up and down Jess' arm.

"Okay, Jess, look at me." She says, tugging her upwards to face each other. Avoiding eye contact with Cece isn't something easily done, so when she looks over her shoulder keeping her focus on the shelves in the kitchen, she can almost feel Cece's eyes fixated on her, practically drawing her to them.

"I don't have all the answers, but what I do know is that you have to tell Nick. I know I promised to keep it between us, but you're pregnant with his kid. You can't keep him in the dark forever."

She is cut short by the sound of the door opening. They both turn to see Nick, holding a bouquet of white roses. He half-smiles, his eyes awash with concern to find Jess still upset. Cece looks back to Jess and raises her eyebrow, encouraging her to talk to him. She closes her eyes and inhales deeply. This isn't going to be easy.

"Hey, how're ya doing, doll?" He asks, his tone soft and solicitous. "You feeling any better?"

Cece shoots him a warning glance. He takes that as a second-hand negative and sets the flowers down on the table amongst the array of food and wine. He sits on the other side of Jess. Her face is worryingly pale and she looks heavily lethargic, her stance limp as she bundles her knees to her chest, burying her face between them.

"They didn't have tulips at the store, but I remember you talking about how much you like white roses." He smiles. Jess peers up at him and tilts her head, forcing a little smile in appreciation. She knows that he deserves to know, and it's best for her to tell him as soon as she can. She hasn't changed out of her pyjamas since he'd last seen her and her hair is thrown back into a messy bun. Her glasses are resting at the end of her nose and are smudged with dried tears, but her appearance is the least of her worries.

"Okay babe I've gotta get going."

"Already?"

Cece nods and looks over at Nick, whose focus has remained strictly on Jess. She stands up and walks over to him and bends down towards his ear.

"Take care of her" She whispers, giving him a pat on the shoulder.

"I will."

And then she's gone. Nick analyses the mess the two had made. "Schmidt's gonna kill you." He laughs, playing with a strand of loose hair that dangles freely in front of her. She doesn't respond.

"Did you two gals have fun?"

"Never say gals again." She mumbles.

"What am I supposed to call you? Lady humans? The opposite of guys?"

She completely drifts away from the question and yawns, scooting closer to him and half-coaxes him to wrap his arms around her as she relaxes into the warmth of his hoodie. He doesn't need to be asked twice and immediately draws her closer to him.

"You tired, kitten?"

She doesn't have the strength to retaliate against his cheesy choice of pet name and just nods, yawning again.

"You want me to take you to your room?"

She closes her eyes and wraps her arms around his neck. "You treat me like a child, Nicholas."

"You don't seem to have a problem with it." He muffles into her hair, kissing the top of her head lovingly. "Let's go."

He hooks his arm under her legs and brings her up to his chest, carrying her slowly back to her room.

_I must be getting biceps from doing this so often._

He sets her down onto her bed and pulls back the sheets for her, letting her slide in underneath them. She struggles to keep her eyes open and succumbs to her sleepiness, turning on her side and resting her arm under the pillow. Nick gazes down at her as though she needs to be monitored before she falls asleep. He kisses her cheek and she lets out a gentle moan, smiling into the action.

She takes a deep breath and shuts her eyes, quickly drifting off to sleep. He smiles an incredibly goofy smile, like the lovesick puppy he is, and moves out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. His plans for the next few hours consist of sitting aimlessly on the couch on his laptop while she sleeps, wasting time by watching dumb cat videos that he _so totally_ watches just to judge how dumb they are. No other reason.

* * *

She emerges from her room, dressed in a blue dress with little white bows and her hair is curled back into its usual Jess curl. Her make-up has been touched up and she looks a lot better than she had done in a while. The afternoon light she had fallen asleep to has quickly slipped into a hazy orange glow that lights the loft in an ominous fashion, casting tall shadows along the walls. Nick has his feet propped up on the coffee table, the same ice-cream tubs littered around them. His laptop rests on the bend in his thighs, chuckling away to some blog he's found in the time she was asleep. She takes a deep breath and moves towards him, her focus purely based on telling him what she promised Cece she'd tell him. Once he notices her moving towards the couch, freshened up and looking a little perkier than when he last saw her, he beams and moves over for her to sit beside him.

"You're looking a lot better."

"Yeah." She sighs, sitting in beside him to get a look at the screen. "Sleep is a great remedy." She brushes a strand of hair out of her face and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Well I'm glad to hear that." He wraps one arm around her and types with the other.

"The guys home yet?"

"Nah, Schmidt's staying in a hotel downtown for." He air quotes. "Work reasons."

"Winston?"

Nick pauses, focused immensely on reading some article about baseball.

"Huh?" He asks, scrolling down along the page.

Jess rolls her eyes at his terrible concentration problems.

"Where's Winston?"

"Oh right." He pauses again. "He's at Daisy's. Don't even ask me what those two are up to."

"We haven't had that kind of fun since we got back." Jess frowns, nuzzling his neck with her nose.

"You're sick, Jess. I'm not gonna put you under any pressure to have sex when you can barely stay awake."

"I guess. I just miss it."

"Don't worry, the second you get the all clear from the doctor, we can dive right into it."

They don't say much for a little while. Jess just observes Nick's browsing, while simultaneously preparing for her confession to him. It's not going to be a picnic telling him, but he's in such a seemingly good mood that it shouldn't be too taxing. She may even get away with him jumping up in excitement and declaring it as the best thing he's heard all day, or if she's going to push his luck, all year. She waits until he's on a not-so interesting site to finally deliver the news.

"Nick I have to tell you something." She says seriously, her voice shaky with nerves. He looks at her, full of concern. He isn't sure what exactly he expects for her to say, considering the fact that it's most definitely related to her emotional turmoil.

"What is it Jess?" He sets the laptop aside and turns to look at her, dismayed by her slightly austere tone.

She takes a deep breath and smiles in the hopes of making what she's about to tell him a little less daunting, after all, it _is_ Nick she's dealing with, and let's be honest, he isn't exactly known for taking serious matters lightly. Except he had sort of outdone himself in the last twenty-four hours. In the four years of their relationship, Jess had only been kind of upset maybe six or seven times when it didn't include a T.V show coming to an end or some other mediocre reason, and every time, Nick had presented himself with little knowledge of how to handle emotional females. Not ever did she think that he would have been the one to come immediately to her aid when she came home in tears the previous day, let alone be so calm and gentle with her. It was as if he'd transformed, matured into this ideal boyfriend that Jess never expected him to amount to in the long run. However, just because he kept a straight face on for just over twenty-four hours, doesn't mean he'll be overjoyed at the news that their birth control had somehow failed them and now she was carrying his prodigy. In fact, the last thing he'd do is react in complete earnest without it being a slap in the face beforehand. They both know that they aren't ready. They'd discussed this maybe twice and neither time did it ever occur to them that this _could_ very well be a reality, something they ought to be planning for. The universe works in strange ways. Jess often talks about fate and how there's no way of changing destiny, yet she had never given it the time to fathom the consequences of a fixed event such as this.

She places her hand on his forearm and gives him a look of apprehension, forcing herself to edge forward and come clean to him. She wants to give him the full story, not just titbits every so often.

"Remember this morning when I told you I went to the doctor's?"

"Yeah, yeah I remember, you have that toxo-thingy." He nods, fully engaged in conversation. He isn't sure exactly where she's going with this.

"Yeah that. Well…" She bites her lip and shuffles around in her seat. "That wasn't _all_ that I found out about."

"What are you talking about Jess?"

She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to find the right way to string her words together in the nicest way to soften the blow. But how many ways _are_ there to make such massive news seem a lot more subtle than for what it's worth. There's one of two ways she can do this; tell him fast, bluntly and straight to the point or build up this miniature novella leading up the news. She doesn't have time to weigh out her options and she certainly can't make it seem any less worse than it is. And then she blurts it out so quickly that she can barely hear herself say it.

"I'm uh… I'm two months pregnant."

And then she hears it.

Deafening silence.

He's staring at her, but his mind seems to be in another place. His mouth is slightly agape and his hands are stuck frozen to his knee caps as he stiffens up.

"You're pregnant?" He croaks, his eyes wide and focused everywhere but on hers.

She nods in response. He runs a hand through his hair and leans back against the couch, struggling to make sense of what he's just been told.

"That's…" He shakes his head. "Wow. That's really something."

She raises an eyebrow, taken aback by his reaction. "Really something? That's how you describe it? _Really something?"_

"I'm sorry Jess, but I don't exactly have the right ways to react to 'I'm pregnant' stored away in my brain."

"You could have used amazing or fantastic." She sighs, biting her nails nervously. She tries to ignore the fact that he sounds slightly pissed off with her because to be honest, getting into a fight with him is the last thing she needs right now.

"It is amazing. It's more than amazing. But it's also really scary." He mutters a string of inaudible words to himself and throws his head into his hands, digging the heels of his palms under his eyes. "Are you sure you're pregnant? It wasn't some gas store test or anything?"

She shakes her head no. "It was done by a doctor, Nick. I don't think she lied to me."

He groans and stands up. "I need a beer."

Jess watches him, feeling extreme anguish as he walks away from her.

"Nick, I really need you to not be mad at me right now." She pleads, her voice shaky. "Please don't be mad at me." Tears burn in her eyes, but she's determined to keep her composure.

Nick tosses the ice-cold bottle between his hands and looks her straight in the eye, numb to any emotion that he's supposed to be feeling right now.

"We used birth control." He half-shouts. "How the hell did you get pregnant?"

Jess' expression saddens and she wants nothing more than for him to pull her into his arms and tell her everything will be okay. She definitely hadn't expected him to be so affronted by this. And it's also really scary to see Nick get angry in general, let alone at her.

"Are you suggesting that I tampered with the birth control, Nick? Because that's really freakin' low of you."

He scoffs.

"I'm just saying, Jess, it doesn't just randomly happen that a woman gets pregnant when she's using both condoms and she's on the pill, so I can't exactly rule it out that someone fucked with it."

"Nick, why are you so _angry_ about this? We talked about this, you told me you were ready."

"Yeah, but that was before you actually _got_ pregnant. You don't think I'm allowed to be a little pissed off by this?"

She stands up, provoked by Nick's resentful attitude. "Do you seriously think _I'm_ okay with this? I'm the one who has to carry this child for nine straight months, all you have to do is sit back and tell me I don't look fat when my belly expands to the size of a basketball."

"Yeah Jess? You think that's all I have to do?" He slams the beer down on the counter and points an accusing finger towards her. "What about the fact that I'm going to have to put up with your whining and constant mood swings? I have to pay the damn bills when it comes to tuition fees and all that crap. No one has it easy in this situation, Jess."

She feels her face burn a crimson red and hot tears run down her cheeks as she tries endlessly to supress her anger and try to turn the conversation back into a less-choleric waters. "I know no one has it easy, Nick. I didn't mean for it to come out like that." She sighs and lowers her voice, trying to speak as calmly as she can. "I just need to not worry about all the bad stuff and focus on how great this could be for us and you're making it really hard for me to do that."

He shakes his head and takes a swig from his beer, rubbing circles into his temples with his free hand. "I'm seriously stressed out right now." He grumbles. "I'm going to go lie down."

"Nick, wait." She calls after him, her vision blurred by the unshed tears clouding up her eyes. He ignores her, and walks to his room, muttering swears as he disappears into the hallway. She winces as the slam of his bedroom door echoes through the loft and she throws herself back onto the couch, staring down at the roses laid out on the table. Her first instinct is to call Cece, but she is so consumed by heartbreak and confusion that it seems almost pointless to even try to seek assistance in anyone. What's Cece supposed to do? Force Nick into coming out of his room with a whole new shiny attitude towards the pregnancy and pick her up and swing her around the living room singing songs about families or some crap?

It isn't until she's finally alone and able to hear herself think that she realizes just how bad of a headache she's got. It's as though she's just been slammed into a brick wall repeatedly and she isn't sure whether it's from the toxoplasmosis, the pregnancy hormones or the stress of having the one person she relied on give up on her. She takes a sip of the now-warm wine from her half-full glass and leans back into the couch, staring out the window as though she were in some sad rom-com. For him to come out of his room, wrap his arms around her and talk to her all about how excited he is that she's carrying his son or daughter is the one thing that could make her feel one hundred per cent better than how she feels right now: rejected, alone and scared. What if his attitude never changes? What if he just runs away from the entire situation and leaves her to raise this child by herself. Normally, she'd see a silver lining to all of this, but her thoughts are so muffled that she can't fathom how anybody could ever be okay with something as devastating as the father of your child abandoning you in your most fragile state. Especially Nick, the guy who crawled into bed with her and woke her up from her nightmares and held her until she was finally calm less than twelve hours ago. What a surprisingly depressing turn this day had taken. And she isn't expecting for it to brighten up anytime soon.


	14. Chapter 14

**So hopefully this chapter will make the story a little more interesting. I haven't given all the information just yet, only the outline, but it will be explored in more depth. **

**Warning: Things are going to be getting OOC, but I won't completely strip them of their true characters.**

** Enjoy!**

Since she doesn't plan on sleeping anyway, Jess takes to the L.A streets, turning corner after corner with no real knowledge of where it is she plans to walk to. With some luck, Cece will have returned from her shoot and would be prepared to have her stay the night. It would be exactly like it was before she'd moved into the loft: Sleeping on her friend's couch, browsing through sketchy websites to find a new home. She doesn't want to jump to conclusions about it though, Nick could come around almost as quickly as he'd stormed off. He has own little way of coping, which consists of locking himself away in his room and pulling the curtains and refusing any human contact for upwards of six hours. She'd have to give it time, because if this is hard for her, it sure as hell isn't going to be a walk in the park for him. Nevertheless, she's pissed. How could he have been so horrible? As if it were her fault that the universe had failed them in a way that most people would be overjoyed with. And secondly, how dare he accuse her of tampering with the protection? Did he not know her well enough to know that the last thing she would _ever_ do is go behind his back? What the hell kind of person does he think she is?

The city air is humid. Her hair has gone from being daintily curly and shiny to a frizzy mess knotted at the ends and her make-up has been practically washed off by the salty tears streaming down her face that don't seem to want to stop. She needs this. She needs time alone from everyone: the guys, Cece, her colleagues who must think that she's incompetent with all the time she's been taking off. And now she's beginning to regret not wearing tights because her legs are bitterly cold as opposed to the flush of heat she feels in her cheeks. It's a sickeningly familiar feeling. It's also a feeling she's trying to wave off as best she can. It _will_ not happen to her again, she won't go through any of it as much as she did last time. And if it does, she doesn't want to have to say that Nick is the reason for it. The last thing she wants to have happen is to be brought into a damn therapy session and asked by that painfully annoying monotone voice sourced from a woman who seems to wear only flax and wire-frame glasses, '_So why do you think that you experienced the events that you did?'_ As if there were some big psychological conspiracy instead of a medical mishap caused by biology and biology only.

She shakes the thoughts out of her head. She wants to be mad at a multitude of people right now. Nick, of course, for being the total dick that he was; Cece for encouraging her to tell him and then up and leaving her there to face the heartbreak of being rejected alone, Schmidt, because somehow when this all comes into play, he _will _be at the roots of it somehow, and then Nick again because he kind of deserves it. Alas, she is still Jess, and even she knows she's going to come out of this with about 0.01% of the same hatred she'd felt going in. It's frustrating as hell. The fact that she has no idea how to deal with it, and Jess Day always has a solution, is equally as frightening. So running around the late night streets of Los Angeles with the threat of being mugged or raped in some alleyway is simply a mere misfortune in her eyes. Hence, running away from her problems seems like a really good idea.

* * *

Nick's back is pressed against the wall. He sits propped up on pillows with his head in his hands. Man does he hate himself right now. He'd heard her. He'd heard the slam of her bedroom door about twenty minutes after he'd retreated to his room. And then there was a silence. A silence laced with anguish and dolour and he is at the surface of it. He'd waited. He'd contemplated getting his ass up and going in to her room to make things right, but he'd felt so ashamed of how he'd treated her that he simply couldn't muster up the courage to do that. And anyway, the patter of her ballet flats running out the door was basically his time-up.

He's still angry. He still cannot fathom how they'd managed to screw everything up without any intention to. But it isn't her fault. Try as he might, he can't bring himself to put sincerity behind the words he'd so regrettably uttered back there, and right now, he's praying she's picked up on that. That he could never mean something so unbelievably harsh, nor challenge the integrity of trust in their relationship. What the hell was he thinking? Accusing her of tampering with the birth control. It's not that awful that she _is_ pregnant. What kind of harm could realistically come from it? Apart from the constant money struggles and sleepless nights, the child that she is carrying by him is admittedly a miraculous result of their love and compassion for one another, as cheesy as that crap sounds. And some couples would kill for the opportunity to have a baby. He's being ungrateful. He knows that. Somewhere in the mess of thoughts his mind is jumbled with he wants to feel nothing but adulation. He doesn't want this toxic energy he's causing spurring up the thing he's got going with Jess. Sure, maybe this wasn't in their 'five year plan' that, to be fair, they'd never actually discussed enough to be prepared for something like this, but it's happening and it's something he's just going to have to adjust to and put his own selfish beliefs aside. Which is why he immediately gets up off his bed, pulls on his maroon hoodie, and half jogs-half walks out of the loft and out to his car. As he's pulling the cardboard off, he decides that it's probably best that he get himself a real car considering the fact that he's about to responsible for a myriad of late slips and detentions once the kid has to be driven to school and his current hunk of worn out metal breaks down and causes a pile up on the highway. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and frantically skims through his contacts, hitting speed dial at the designated number.

"Nick?"

"Cece." He pants, buckling his belt into the clasp. "Hey, is Jess there?"

"Um, no? Why, what happened?"

"It's a long story. I'll drop by your place and tell you there."

There's a brief pause.

"Nick, I swear to God if you hurt her."

"Okay yeah this feels great I'm glad we're talking, I'll see you in a few minutes."

He hangs up abruptly, slightly terrified of coming face to face with the woman who could potentially rip him to shreds with her vicious words at the knowledge of him driving her out of the apartment in such a vulnerable state. Cece never hesitates to make sure someone suffers when they are held responsible for interfering with anyone close to her and Nick just isn't mentally prepared to take her words with a pinch of salt. Nevertheless, this isn't about him, this is about him finding Jess and getting her home safely.

* * *

He arrives at Cece's apartment a lot quicker than he'd anticipated. He'd been so caught up in his own little dream world, keeping his eyes peeled for Jess that he'd almost missed his turn into her complex. He buzzes into her room and makes his way up the stairs, with too much energy to withstand that extra few minutes for the elevator to arrive. He raps gently on her door, conscious that models are adamant about getting their beauty sleep and he'd rather only have to deal with one ticked off model for now.

"Come in." She says in a hushed tone, opening the door for him. He thanks her and stands around with his hands shoved down into his pockets. Every time he comes to her apartment, which is a very rare occurrence, it's always immaculate. There's rarely any food left lying on countertops, which isn't too surprising, and everything is stacked neatly, on shelves. He sometimes wished he lived here, except he'd probably have it destroyed within the first millisecond of crossing the threshold.

Cece saunters past him and returns to her spot on the couch. "So, what happened with Jess?"

Nick sighs and sits down beside her, throwing his head into his hands. "A lot happened with Jess."

"That's pretty vague, I'm gonna need a little more." She says sarcastically.

He looks up at her and shakes his head, struggling to remember everything that'd happened. "When you left she went to sleep."

"Oh thank God, I thought it'd take weeks before she started sleeping again."

"Why?" He asks, curiously.

"Never mind, keep going." She says, batting her hand carelessly.

"Okay." He starts, rubbing his palms together. "Jess was acting pretty weird when she woke up and then she just comes out and tells me she's pregnant."

"You better not have said anything to her, Miller, or I will ring your neck. I will." She says, pointing an accusing finger at him and clenching her teeth. "It took a lot for her to tell you that."

"Yeah I know." He panics, defending himself as best he can. "But I just got caught up in the spur of the moment and… I guess I blamed her?"

He's almost positive he can hear her growling, but he continues. "And then I went to my room. I thought about what happened and I wanted to go in to her and apologize, but left before I got the chance."

Cece closes her eyes and inhales deeply, trying to summon some kind of calmness before she dives at him and begins clawing at his flesh.

"Okay. I'm not mad at you."

He widens his eyes. "You're not?"

"You got a little upset, I understand." She shrugs. "I don't _agree_ with it, and I seriously want to take a hot rod to your balls, but I'm not gonna do anything to make this worse than it already is. We need to find Jess."

"Thank God." He mutters, running a hand through his hair. "Well where do you think she is?"

Cece's already tapping in to her phone. "I'm gonna leave her a voicemail. She won't answer if she's trying to clear her head."

"But she'll definitely come here, right?"

Cece raises an eyebrow. "Nick, we've been friends since elementary school, she'll _definitely_ come here."

He leans back in the couch and listens out for Jess' voice echo through the phone.

"_Hey, it's Jess! I can't come to the phone right now because I'm probably trying out new cupcake recipes, but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"_

"Hey Jess, just checking up on you. I know things didn't go well with Nick so I'm going to leave a spare key by the plant outside the door if you wanna come over and talk. Bye babe."

Nick stares at her as she places the phone back down. Sometimes he's a little envious of how close the bond between Jess and Cece is, but she's his only way around issues like these, and she's extremely compliant about helping him too.

"Do you think she's going to forgive me for this?"

Cece sighs, acknowledging the hurt in Nick's voice.

"Of course she will. Jess can't stay mad at people for too long, she isn't like other girls. Holding a grudge is something unheard of with her."

"Really?"

"I mean, yeah, it'll take time, but just as long as you're not too pushy with her, she'll come round."

"I just have one question." Nick says, determined to find the answer he's been looking for, for over forty eight hours.

"Shoot."

"Why the hell was Jess so upset? Was it the fact that she's pregnant or is it something else?"

Cece pauses and stares at him, unsure of whether or not she should deliver the news, something Jess should be the only one to do. But the fact that everything's already pretty messy, it's probably something she'd be better off doing to take some of the pressure off her. She purses her lips and makes direct eye contact with Nick.

"Okay Nick, I'm going to tell you something that you need to not bring up in conversation with Jess unless she initiates it, understood?"

He shakes his head hesitantly. "Understood."

"Okay."

Cece gets up from the couch and makes her way over to a cabinet at the other end of the room. She pulls out a small book, a photo album by the looks of it, and flips through it, scanning the pages carefully. She walks back over to the couch, but doesn't sit, and hands the album to Nick, keeping her thumb at the spine of the page. When he takes it from her, what he sees alarms him to such a terrifying extent that he feels the blood drain from his face. His surroundings become a faint blur and he's almost certain he's going to black out. He can see Cece looking down at him, inspecting his facial expression as though she were expecting there to be a specific look that he should be getting. But he feels numb.

"Read the caption under it." She whispers, her eyes awash with empathy and woe. He gulps and takes his fingers away from the bottom of the page. The blank ink is smudged, but it is not illegible. He takes a while to process what exactly it says, because for a brief moment, his knowledge of the English language lapses and it takes him a moment or two to bring himself back down to read and understand it without having to look over it forty times. There are only three columns, each with colons.

Patient: Day, Jessica

Dr: Harrison, Neil

Aug 7, 2003; 0914 hrs

The rest makes no sense to him. Except he knows damn well that the blackish-brown photo stuck onto the yellowed pages is nothing ordinary.

He's frozen. Cece stands over him, and he can tell that she doesn't know what to do either. He can barely find his voice, and he's relying on this silence to bring forth some kind of reaction from either one of them, just to knock the awkwardness and the tension from the atmosphere, because it seriously isn't helping him.

"You kept this?" He asks quietly, unable to raise his voice. He runs his finger across the glossy picture, his breathing shallow.

"I had to." She nods. "She couldn't keep it. It was too painful for her."

They don't say anything for a while. The only sounds to be heard is that of the air conditioning. Cece smiles a very subtle smile and places a hand on his shoulder, knowing just how daunting this whole situation is becoming for him.

"She needs you Nick." Cece croaks, nodding her head.

"I know." He sighs.


	15. Chapter 15

**If you liked angsty Nick, then I'm sorry to tell you that there is not even an ounce of angst in this chapter, however, it shall progress as being an angst fic and a not-so-new-girl-like fic (aka. it's not going to be all bubbles and kittens) Enjoy! **

* * *

Of course he falls asleep in his car. He wakes up with a jolt at five in the morning. The sun has just begun to dawn and the air feels crisp from the heating being off for the majority of the night. He wakes up with a throbbing pressure on the side of his face. He'd fallen asleep face-down on the top of the steering wheel, which has left a semi-prominent red mark imprinted across his cheek. Disoriented and dehydrated, he unbuckles his seatbelt and rubs his eyes, taking in his surroundings. He's still outside of Cece's apartment. The sky is tinted an orange-pink and the sunbeams are spilling their rays through the trees situated in a cluster near the entrance to the complex and are cast in all directions, specifically in the uncomfortable direction of his sleep-ridden eyes.

What the hell was he doing here? How long had been asleep for? But more importantly, _what the hell was he doing here_? He sits back in his seat and exhales, running his hands through his hair. He inspects his rugged appearance in the interior rear view mirror and winces at how much he needs to shave. He'd only kept the stubble because Jess had quickly changed her opinion of him being 'smoking hot' whenever he groomed and complained about the absence of his scratchiness on her cheek whenever they got close. And then it clicks with him.

Jess.

That's why he's here. He leans forward and places his hand over the lower half of his face. He had been a _dick_. He doesn't even care that his back feels like he'd been carrying twenty tons of bricks wrapped in thick metal chains up a mountain, he has to get his ass up and resolve all the shit he'd stirred up the night before. Fragments of the night before begin flowing back to his memory. How he'd ran to his room like the coward he was after being confronted with the news that Jess is pregnant. How he'd left her to run out on her own in the dark, precarious streets of L.A. She's already vulnerable enough, pregnant or not. It's not that she's some idiotic airhead who will accept a ride from a dude in a white van when given the chance, it's more the fact that when she's emotional, she will literally confide in a hobo she found lying against some brick wall by a dumpster. He mentally scolds himself for not running after her the second he'd heard the door click open. For all he knows, she could be lying unconscious, drugged up in some creep's shed. He tries not to think of the worst case scenario and instead gets out of his car, winces in the strong sunlight, and sprints up the steps to Cece's building. He hits the buzzer and waits for her voice on the other end.

"Hello?" Comes a drowsy, dragged out voice from the speaker.

"Cece, it's Nick."

"Nick? Uh, just a sec."

The sound cuts off and Nick can only assume she's talking to someone who may not be comfortable with having some guy wandering into their apartment at five in the morning. He scratches the side of his face and stares down at the ground waiting for her return.

"Hey, sorry about that. Now isn't a great time." She trails off.

"Why not?" He asks stupidly, knowing damn well why: first of all it's five in the morning and second of all, _duh_, Jess is there.

"It just isn't. Remember what we talked about last night?"

"Right. I'll be at home if you need me."

"Kay."

And then it cuts off again before he can say goodbye. He purses his lips and staggers back to his car. He places his hands on the steering wheel and looks up towards the window in front he assumes is Cece's. If Jess is up there, and he drives away again, he's almost certain it won't make anything better. He won't be able to relax once he pulls into the parking lot, aka. The space underneath the overpass-bridge thing that's about two miles from the actual loft. He'll end up pacing for hours on end. Schmidt will try to force anxiety pills into him to get him to calm down, and then he'll try to make him drink green tea just because he's Schmidt and Schmidt is the kind of guy to force green tea into someone if he thinks it'll even minutely help. He's got his phone, and it's not exactly dead yet, and anyway, he spent the entire night in the cold car, ill-fitting to a man of his age and height, therefore he can most definitely spend a few more hours. Anyway, he's sure that somewhere in some psychological study conducted by some prestigious, big-named university, there's a statement about a man's relationship with his car. As ludicrous as it sounds. Thus, he sits back in his still-relatively warm seat and tries to relax there until he can lull himself back to sleep, or at least into a trance whereby he isn't rammed into a spine-strangling hard-cover seat with no lumbar support or any form of cushioning whatsoever.

_**~~~~~~~Previously that day~~~~~~~~**_

"So Nick came by. He told me what happened." Cece says nervously, placing a purple mug of decaf coffee in front of Jess.

"Cece I can't have caffeine." Jess says almost angrily as she looks into the contents of the cup.

"It's decaf, anyway, you had wine yesterday."

She widens her eyes. "I did? Cece _how_ did you let me drink _wine?! _Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"You can have less than two units a week, Jess. Anyway, West Coast Cooler is four proof. It's literally just strawberry soda with a dropper of alcohol."

Jess glares at her, unconvinced.

Cece tilts her head and sighs. "Trust me, Sadie said it was the only thing that wouldn't affect a toddler. I believe the words of an OBGYN."

"I swear to God, if you ever pull something like that again." Jess snarls.

"You knew you were drinking it. You weren't on pills or anything." She pauses. "Wait, you weren't, were you?"

"No, I was just really confused and I don't know."

"You'll be fine. Now drink your phony coffee."

Jess stares down at it. "There's just so many chemicals." She looks up innocently at a slightly ticked-off Cece, who is audaciously looking back at her. "I just don't want to push my luck."

"Fine. Don't drink it, but you have to pour it out yourself."

She groans and slumps back in the chair, cocking her head to her shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"Which is why I brought you coffee." Cece argues. "But you're being fussy, so you deserve to be tired."

Jess throws a pillow across at her and laughs quietly. She'd known that coming to Cece's would be one of her better remedies. She still feels sad, there's no doubt about that. But she just feels kind of less grumpy and lot more relaxed.

"Okay, before you knock me out." Cece jokes. "I have to tell you something, and you have to promise not to be mad at me."

Jess sits up straight, taken aback by the sudden turn in conversation. "What do you mean?"

"Do you promise?" Cece urges, clasping her hands together angelically. Jess rolls her eyes.

"I promise."

"Okay." She begins with a deep breath. "Nick came by earlier."

There's a brief silence and Cece can see Jess become rigid at the sound of his name, as though she were almost repulsed by the mere syllable she'd uttered. Nevertheless, Jess encourages her to continue, and she does.

"I told him about the 'incident.'" She says, narrowing her eyes and curving her fingers into quotations as she speaks "Actually that's not true. I showed him the sonogram from 2003."

Once she says the word sonogram, she immediately notices a something crumble in Jess' eyes, as though all the blue were draining out of them and they were filling with this vacant clearness that always seems to wash over them anytime they try to talk about it. However, it only happened anytime that it was about her, personally. She could always remain happy and exasperated whenever it comes to other people's pregnancies. When Sadie announced her pregnancy, the excitement in her voice sounded almost as though what she'd experienced never actually occurred and this was to be just another perfect reaction to an amazing moment. Only Cece truly saw the pain she'd been locking away any time she was faced with the situation.

"You told him?" She whisper-screams in the interest of the Eastern-Europeans trying to squeeze in an extra hour of beauty sleep before whatever shoot they have to leave for that day. "Cece you _know_ he's going to bring it up!"

"I had to Jess, he _has_ to know. You can't keep him in the dark forever. Anyway, he's going to figure out why you're being so careful every time you eat or drink anything."

"Cece I was stressed out, okay! I'm not going to be as stressed this time, I'm older now I know how to handle it."

Cece gives her a sympathetic look and takes Jess' hand in hers, covering them comfortingly with her other one.

"Babe, the doctor said there wasn't a known reason for it. I know you're looking for a reason, but stress isn't it. There's no psychological or medical connection between miscarriage and stress."

Jess looks up at her friend and blink away the tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

"I don't want to believe that, Cece." She whispers, her voice cracking with threatening sobs.

"Hey, Jess." Cece says softly, rubbing her thumb over the top of Jess' hand. "I know it's hard, okay. I mean, I don't know from experience, but I understand what you're going through and I know it's not a wound that's going to heal overnight, but you need to see this kid as an opportunity to put your past behind you and build up a more positive outlook on this whole deal." She smiles, hoping that somehow the same smile will transfer to Jess' currently melancholic expression. "And Nick isn't going to run out on you, okay. I promise."

Jess sighs and takes her hand away, cupping them one on top of the other in her lap. She sniffs and pulls out a pillow that has half-sunken into the couch and places it up against the arm rest to relax back into. "I need to sleep." She sighs.

Cece nods understandingly and fetches a blanket from the closet. She drapes it over Jess and they say their goodnights as Cece returns to her room, hopeful that Jess' mood will have lightened by morning and she'd be able to return to the loft a little brighter than she'd left.

* * *

"It's Nick." Cece says to Jess, who's sitting at her kitchen table, stirring her bland shredded wheat with a teaspoon. Her hand is placed over the callbox and she's awaiting her friend's approval. Of course, Jess shakes her head hesitantly. She knows when she wants to speak to him again, and it certainly isn't going to be as easy as the day after their 'fight,' as one may call it. Cece nods and turns down his request to come up. And then that's pretty much it for a while. The models go out at around ten, repeatedly asking Cece to come along to some convention for a new diet pill, to which she declines in the interest of helping Jess get through the morning with as little struggle as possible. They sit around watching _That 70s Show_ and Jess zones out a few times, and Cece doesn't try to snap her out of it. Instead, she averts her attention to the light-hearted comedy of a very stoned Eric hallucinating moving wallpaper. They talk a little, Jess throws up a lot. Like, a lot. She ends up spending half the morning hanging off the toilet bowl with her hair tied up in a high ponytail behind her head, as Cece had cleverly suggested before she made it to the bathroom. She hadn't expected for it to happen so suddenly, which really is kind of far-fetched considering she'd already gone the better half of two weeks suffering nothing but awful mood-swings and a craving for foods she never usually craves.

She'd been through it all before, but the aim was to _not_ reminisce. It would be hard. It would be excruciating, but she had to force herself into a new train of thought. There's something that will always reach out and pull her back into these phases of depression, but she has to cherish the times she has away from that something. It's not exactly a band-aid matter more than it is a stitching and scarring matter that she would have to learn to live with and start afresh. This would have to play out as a whole new experience for her. To pretend she'd never experienced crying at dumb commercials about cleaning products would be a difficult task, but it's a necessary one.

At twelve, she comes out of the bathroom. Her eyes are red and she looks breathless, but she downs a full glass of water in about twenty seconds and comes right out with it.

"I'm ready to see him."

Cece glances up at her. "You are?"

"I am." She nods, her motivation kicking in full force. "Can you drive me home?"

"Jess… I don't know that that's the best idea." She trails off.

"Please." Jess pleads. Cece considers her friend, stood with her hair flopped over her shoulders in a curly dishevelled mess and a worrying pallor that she's afraid that Jess is about to collapse then and there. She sighs and stands up, grabbing her keys in the bowl at the door. She opens it and gestures for her to go ahead. "I'm not leaving you there alone."

"Okay." Jess agrees, walking limply past her friend, still slightly shaken from the sudden episode that's now just a blur of tears and a bitter taste of lingering bile.

Sure, it's indefinitely way too soon for Jess to be leaving less than twelve hours of arriving, but if she says she's ready, then Cece is in no position to stop her.

Jess walks alongside Cece, her stance weak. She doesn't know what to expect from Nick. She isn't anticipating some big romantic moment whereby she walks through the door and is greeted by being swept off her feet and dipped low to the ground, kissed passionately in an attempt to win her over. And once she steps foot in the elevator, is brought down to the ground floor and is not only met by the gleaming sunshine shining gracefully on the face of the apartment, but also by a sleeping, scruffy man with his face smooshed up against the window, she's sure that isn't going to happen.


	16. Chapter 16

**Stuff happens. The heaviness is starting right around now. **

**_Warning: This chapter contains some mild violence and strong sexual references near the end. Viewer discretion is advised._**

**Disclaimer: I do not own New Girl or any of the characters.**

* * *

"What's he doing here?" She mutters, squinting in the sunlight to get a better view of inside the car.

"He must not have left once I told him you'd be coming over."

"What do you mean you 'told him I'd be coming over?' What exactly did you two talk about last night?"

Cece shrugs and shakes her head. Jess rolls her eyes. Not only has she not prepared herself enough to actually come face to face with Nick, but she's also pretty rough looking, her breath stinks and she's starting to feel nauseous again. She's also a little cold from wearing only knee-length dress while her cardigan is draped over the end of Cece's couch, and Nick's car is usually a fairly warm place to be, no matter how many times he retaliates against having the heating on. Cece nudges her and gives her an encouraging nod, to which Jess reacts almost immediately.

"Don't go anywhere, okay?"

"Jess, what's he gonna do? He seemed pretty apologetic last night, I doubt if he'll go crazy and scream at you again."

"I guess." Jess bites her lip and places a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Just please don't go anywhere until I give you the go-ahead."

Cece smiles, reassuring her that she wasn't about to go anywhere anytime soon. She folds her arms and keeps a tight focus on Jess as she leaves the safety of her friend's feisty tongue that could snap at any given moment if Nick tried anything out of the ordinary with her. She takes baby steps, hesitating as she moves closer to the car. As she approaches him, she looks back over her shoulder, as though seeking Cece's approval. She is met by a thumbs up, and while all this is happening, Jess can't really fathom how it had escalated from Nick being such a pure, goodhearted man with the patience to put up with her moments of emotional distress to him being an asshole with seemingly no morals or any concept of how to handle news like a grown-up rather than throwing a myriad of aggressions and harsh comments at the one you're supposed to be taking into your arms at that one specific moment.

He's asleep. She turns around to look at Cece who's very intrigued by the way Jess is approaching her **_boyfriend_** like some kind of mythical creature that might fly off if she gets too close. She gestures for her to tap on the glass, to which Jess meets with an '_obviously'_ shake of the head back. As gently as she can, she begins knocking two fingers right at where his ear is and stands back, trying to look the least bit like she doesn't want to spill her guts out all over the place.

He stirs, and she taps again, but to no avail. She huffs and turns back to Cece, who has retreated to the lower step on the staircase up to her apartment.

"Maybe if you weren't treating the glass like a cracked egg he'd wake up." She says flatly.

Jess makes a face and takes a step back. He looks so peaceful, all curled up in his seat. She almost doesn't want to be angry with him. She actually has this urge to throw a blanket over him and stroke his hair as he sleeps.

_Hormones_.

Letting her mushy feelings subside, she goes for it again, pounding the glass, except not really pounding to a normal person, but by Jess' definition, this is pounding. And this time she takes the liberty of adding some dialogue to go along with the sudden gesture.

"Wake up you idiot."

She hears Cece groaning behind her but she ignores her and keeps her attention on Nick, who is beginning to crack open his eyelids and turn onto his back. She folds her arms and shuffles her weight between her feet, stretching one bent knee out in front of the other and leaning slightly off to the side, in an angry parent manner. He stretches and rubs his eyes as he turns to look at her. The second she comes into view, he sits up straight and runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly. She signals for him to roll down the window, which is one of the few privileges his car comes with, pretty much everything else is either broken or has fallen off.

"Hey, Jess." He says, his voice scratchy.

"Hey."

He smiles, and laughs awkwardly, feeling the tension already building up.

"How've you been?"

She shrugs. "I puked a lot."

He nods his head and props his elbow up onto the window ledge, resting his chin in his palm.

"That's nice. At least you're, you know, normal and stuff."

"I don't know if I'm so grateful for that."

"Well, I mean… You know at least… It's common for… You're not like…"

She raises an eyebrow and waits for him to get this thoughts together, restraining herself to melting into a puddle on the floor at his flustered state. He being panicky is one of the many quirks she admires about him, but it's important that she refrain from turning this into some kind of love-story that has a happy ending without the necessary conflict both characters need to grow within the story.

"It's great that uh… You know." He nods. "Yeah."

"Can I sit in?"

"Yeah, sure."

Cece observes from afar as Jess disappears behind the six foot slab of concrete partitioning the car from her view. She doesn't like to pry, she knows Jess can handle it if she says she can, and she's considering going back in and calling up to check on her later. Alas, she'd made a promise to Jess to stay on her guard at all times in case things got nasty, and she could never forgive herself if Jess was left alone once again to deal with the chaotic pressures of everything she's going through at the moment.

"So." Jess begins, pursing her lips.

"I was worried sick about you last night, Jess."

"Really? It sure didn't seem that way."

"I know." He agrees. "I'm sorry, I just got caught up in everything."

"I'm sorry Nick, I find that very hard to believe. You were fine before all of this happened." She says flatly, pushing her hair back behind her shoulders. Starting another argument is the least of her desires, but she can't help but feel like it's her turn to get pissed He had the nerve to call her out on something completely irrational and, to put it simply, idiotic.

"Why are you doing this Jess?"

"Why am I doing what?"

He glares at her. She glares at him. And so far it's gone from zero to sixty in less than two minutes, and the atmosphere has turned sour.

"Why are you trying to start this again? I came here because I figured you'd want to settle this."

"I do."

"Do you?"

"Yes." She snaps.

"Well here's an idea." He says sarcastically, placing a hand on her knee. She scrunches up her face, almost disgusted by the gesture. "Why don't you start acting like a mature adult and not like a stroppy child? That would be fantastic."

"Get off of me." She snarls.

"So you want to do this the hard way?"

"I didn't say that."

"Sure seems like it."

She sighs and lets her head fall back against the headrest. She clicks her tongue against her teeth and buckles her seatbelt.

"Take me home."

"I thought you wanted to-."

"Did I stutter? I said take me home." She growls.

He cocks his head and wraps his hands around the steering wheel, letting his foot hover above the pedals. Refraining from anymore arguing is a really good idea at this point, because he certainly is not about to start ranting about how he'd stayed out in his car overnight, anxious to win her over and fix everything that had happened the night before. She's probably guessed that by now anyway, and evidently, she didn't seem too phased by it when she'd seen him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see her clenching her jaw and keeping a strict focus on the road as he drives. Every so often, she'll swap which legs crossed over each other, and she'll cough, but she doesn't speak.

She forgets about Cece entirely. She's so mad right now that anything outside of what she's mad about is merely a passing thought through her mind. Anyway, if Cece knows Jess, she'll have picked up on the acetic atmosphere and gotten the hell out of there once she heard the revving of the car engine. It's something she's learned to do in recent years.

* * *

Nick feels like everything he's done up to now has been all in vain. If he'd driven all the way out to Cece's to be commanded to drive back home, he would have stayed in his bed and waited for Jess to get over herself. Except he wouldn't have anyway. He's a worrier, especially since he doesn't want to turn out like his dad. He's not doing a great job of it, but he plans on taking every opportunity to redeem himself and start over. Also, he now is faced with the challenge of dealing with someone that his father never had: a heartbroken, (ex?) mother. It's a terrible way to describe her, but his vocabulary choice aren't really a primary concern to him right now, all that matters is that he gets Jess home, they take some time, maybe sleep in their own beds for a while, and then try to talk to each other. Cattiness is not a desired attitude to have when trying to discuss something extremely sensitive, and it's clear that both of them are sky-rocketing with cattiness.

"I uh… I'm gonna get some rest once we get in." He says quietly.

"I don't care what you do." She folds her arms across her chest and shakes the strands of hair from her face. "Just as long as it doesn't involve me."

He looks at her, fighting off the impending sadness that has unexpectedly begun to creep up on him. Making a snap decision, he takes his foot off the accelerator and pulls on the break, jolting the car to an abrupt stop. She lurches forward and gasps, clasping onto her seatbelt.

"What the hell Nick? Are you trying to kill us?" She says between hasty breaths.

"Just shut up for a second."

She stares at him, her mouth hanging open in shock. You don't just stop the damn car in the middle of a road anywhere, never mind Los Angeles. Thank God he'd been a safe distance from the traffic behind him, otherwise he would have been rear-ended and shot out through the windscreen in seconds. The expected array of car-horns sounding behind him are deafening, but Nick hardly notices them. True, he could have just pulled over, but for some reason, something inside of him had clicked and he had to stop before he drove the car into a wall.

"Are you kidding me? You expect me to just go along you randomly stopping in the middle of traffic? What is wrong with you?" She screams, pounding her fists on the dashboard.

"Just calm down."

"Nick, start driving or I walk."

He turns to her, unsure of whether or not this is the best time, which of course it freakin' isn't, to bring up the mysterious sonogram Cece had shown him. Her face is scrunched up and her cheeks are a deep red. The fury she's keeping locked inside of her is beginning to show and it's slightly terrifying. She hadn't anticipated on things going south so fast, but they had, and she's simply rolling with the punches and reacting in every way she can. Throwing a glass bottle at him seems like one of the most exciting things she could possibly do right now, but she doesn't have the heart for that, nor does she have time to spend the duration of her pregnancy behind bars.

He glances up at her and his expression softens. He reaches out to take her hand, but she pulls away and continues to glare back at him.

"Don't."

"Please Jess. Can we just talk this out?"  
"That depends." She croaks, looking down, letting her hair fall back around her face. "Are you going to get all defensive again?"

He sighs. "Look. Cece told me about, you know, what happened to you."

"I know she did." Jess nods. "I'd rather not relive it."

"That's not a healthy attitude to have, Jess."

"Yeah well that's not your decision to make, Nick."

She takes her face in her hands and exhales. She doesn't want to have to think about this at this moment in time.

"I don't wanna talk about this right now." She whispers, choking back sobs. "Can you just take me home?"

"Jess…" He says, squeezing his eyes shut and placing his thumb and forefinger on the creases. "I'm not going to let you go through this alone."

"Just drive."

And then they're silent for the rest of the journey home. Jess fidgets with the hem of her dress, Nick complains about bad drivers. They try to make it as normal as possible, but deep down, they know they're tip toeing around a serious issue that needs to be addressed.

* * *

"Hey Jess, we missed you this morning." Schmidt calls out from the kitchen upon hearing the door open.

"I missed you guys too." She smiles. Nick makes a beeline for his room and Jess, to the fridge. She hasn't had tea in over twelve hours. Any longer and she'll be twice as irritable.

"Hey Schmidt?" She asks, pulling a teabag out of the container. "How much caffeine is in tea?"

Schmidt glances up from his computer. "Uh, it's got about the same about as coffee. Why?"

She analyses the white bag and the tiny granules inside of it, before discarding it back into the box. "What about green tea?"

Schmidt raises an eyebrow and gets up from his seat. "It's not all that different, just more antioxidants." He mutters, reaching up into the back of the cabinet. "Here." He hands her the box and returns to his seat. She immediately flips the box and looks for any tell-tale signs that say anything about drinking tea while pregnant. He watches as her eyes scan over the print and waits before asking anything of it.

"Hmm…"

"Are you okay Jess? You're being really picky about tea. A lot more than usual."

"Yeah, I'm just…" She nods, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. "Trying to not take in too much caffeine. It's not good for the energy levels."

"Yeah…" Schmidt sighs, still not too convinced by her forced-casual façade. "Anyway, Winston and I were thinking about getting dinner at Nick's bar tonight, you down?"

"Nick's bar does food now? That's surprising, I didn't know they had the budget."

"They got some kind of grant from the state. I want to go and see the standard. It'll be one more reason to convince Nick to finally quit that place once we all die of E. coli poisoning."

"That's optimistic." Jess grins, still cradling the box in her hand.

"I'm not gonna sugar coat it."

"Hey, there's our girl." Winston smiles, walking up to the fridge. He's still in his pyjama pants and a grey sweatshirt and he's now got a beer to top off the sleezy look. He pats her on the shoulder and takes a seat beside Schmidt. She smiles at him and turns to put the box back in its place.

"So we're going to Nick's bar tonight then?"

"Sure are." Winston nods, taking a swig from the bottle. "Is Nick here?"

"Yeah he's in his room." Jess sighs, leaning her elbows on the counter opposite the guys.

"We were worried about you two lovebirds last night, we thought you'd been kidnapped or something. Hell, I was half expecting to see your faces on the morning news when I turned on the television this morning." Winston jokes.

"You feeling any better, Jess?"

"Well." She starts, taking a bite out of an apple she'd taken from the fruit bowl. "The antibiotics are working. I'm still tired. A little nauseous."

"All in good time, Jessica." Schmidt says from behind the screen. "Now Winston, go shower before I hurl. You smell like a gym sock."

"Ain't nobody gonna tell me how to live my life. I am a strong independent black-."

"Okay seriously, if you continue, I'm gonna stick your whole head in the jar."

Jess giggles. "I think you need a break from the computer, Winston."

* * *

Nick lies flat on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep doesn't come easy to him when his mind is befuddled with endless thoughts of what Cece had brought up and how guilty he now feels that he'd reacted so rashly. He blames himself for her being so cranky with him. She has every right to have yelled at him earlier, and he's totally fine with giving her her space, but he really needs to get this feeling of determination out of his system. He wants to clear up the mess and pretend like yesterday had never happened. He's got time. He's got about seven months to fix everything that he'd destroyed so quickly, but that, in the scheme of things, is only a miniscule time frame to work with. Jess might never forgive him for acting the way that he did, and she may even threaten to end it with him for the sake of her own sanity. He can only imagine the pain he'd induced upon her. How awful she'd felt when he walked out on her. It makes him wince and clench his fists in order to stop himself from lashing out at some innocent object in his room as a means of getting his anger out. It's a complicated situation. One that he'd never expected to come of his life. When Jess moved in, not once did he ever consider the fact that she may one day have a child by him, let alone last longer than a year before the stress of putting up with dudes in their underwear all day got to be too much.

He hadn't even gone out to say hi to his roommates. It's probably something he should do. He's been missing out on quality guy time, i.e. watching the game and drinking beer without having to worry about making sure that he'd paid adequate attention to cuddling and kissing. It's not that he doesn't like being affectionate, but he just isn't in any mood to be happy. That sounds super depressing when it's out in the open, but in his head, it feels like the only way he can put it.

Winston comes knocking on his door as he's just about to try and get some rest. He rolls his eyes and sits up in bed, scratching the stubble on his face. He'd _definitely_ have to shave that.

"Come in."

He peers in through the door and raises his hand in greeting. "What's up man? You haven't come out of your room since you got back."

"Yeah, I came in to actually get some sleep." He nods.

Winston takes one look at his worn-down face and the dark circles forming underneath his eyes and notes the stress lines on his forehead.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on. I told you, I came in to sleep." He says flatly.

"Doesn't look that way." Winston persists, sitting at the foot of his bed. "How long has it been, man?"

"How long has what been, Winston?"

Winston tilts his head and looks at Nick as if he's one of the most idiotic beings to ever lay eyes on. "You know what I'm talking about." He urges.

"She's sick, Winston. She's not really fit for that right now."

"You keep telling yourself that." Winston sighs, throwing a hand down on the bed and smoothing out the fabric. "But I think it's something more than her being sick."

"Well you thought wrong. Can you please let me sleep?"

"We're going to your bar tonight, we need you to come so you can give us free drinks."

Nick groans and turns on his side away from his persistent roommate. "I'm not in tonight, Winston, I'm off for the weekend."

"Doesn't matter. You can still come and just, you know, slip us a few when no one's looking."

"Let me get this straight." He turns over, propping himself up on his elbow. "You want me to risk my job so that you cheap-asses can get drunk for free?"

Winston makes a pleading face and joins his hands together, pouting slightly. "For your best friend man, come on."

Nick rolls his eyes. "I'll think about it, now let me sleep."

"Sure, just remember, we're going at eight so we need your answer by then."

"Whatever."

Winston stands up and walks out the door, shutting it behind him. "Later, man."

* * *

"I really appreciate you doing this for us, Nick." Schmidt says in a false appreciative tone. Nick makes a face as he sets the tray of drinks down in front of the three. So far, no one has asked about why Jess hasn't ordered her usual pink wine, but they have picked up on the high tensions between Nick and Jess. Schmidt nudges Winston and gestures for him to watch whenever Nick comes near her. Any time they are within a few centimetres of each other, Jess flinches and shifts in her seat, her back parallel to the back of the booth.

"Relax Jess, lean back, have a drink." Schmidt instigates, throwing his hands up, carefree. She sips on her water and shakes her head, making an excuse that she's still tired from being out all night. When they'd asked about her sudden departure from the loft last night, she tells them that she just needed to see Cece for some urgent reason that she couldn't speak publicly about. That it was confidential friend stuff. She doesn't want them knowing about her and Nick's argument, because that could inevitably take a three-sixty and someone would find out about her pregnancy.

At one point during the night, Jess stands up and runs to the bar to speak to Nick privately. She ushers him to an isolated corner and looks around to make sure no one's laid eyes on them yet.

"Why are you being so awkward?" She asks, poking a finger at him "Are you trying to give it away?"

"Give what away, Jess?"

"Our argument you idiot. What else?"

"Oh so you agree it was a joined effort." He says smugly, folding his arms.

"Wipe that grin off your face and come and sit down with us and _try_ to act normal." She demands.

"I'm just doing my job, Jessica. You're the one acting strange, with your water and your salad that you insisted was completely pesticide free. Do you realize how pissed the other staff are at me for sending them out to an organic market looking for 'safe' iceberg lettuce?"

She draws her lips into a thin line and looks down at her feet, rubbing the top of her arm in discomfort. Her voice is almost inaudible as she speaks. "Please don't…" She whispers, feeling her emotions building up on top of her. "I don't want to talk about that."

"Jess, what are you so afraid of? I'm not going to tell them about any of it."

"No, it's not that." She sighs, beginning to feel the tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill at any given moment.

He looks down at her. She looks so tiny standing so close to him, so weak and vulnerable as her mood changes from angry to sad almost instantaneously. He wraps his hands around her forearms and pulls her in towards him. She falls forward into his chest and buries her face into the fabric of his shirt, wrapping her arms around him. He runs a soothing hand up and down her back comfortingly and kisses the top of her head, something he'd wanted to do for hours. He can feel her hot tears absorb into his shirt and he can feel her shudder as she lets out much-needed sobs that she'd been holding in all day. He knows that he needs to give up on being such an asshole and needs to just let her cry. After all, this is how it should be; him being her safety blanket and her being the most precious thing in the world to him.

"Shhh, it's okay hon." He muffles as he rests his chin on her head. "We don't need to talk about it."

"God, I'm so sorry." She whimpers, clinging tighter onto him. "This isn't how I wanted tonight to go."

"Don't worry about it." He says, breathing a sigh of relief that all this bickering has finally ended. Not in a very upbeat, happy way, but nevertheless, they don't have to do this stupid immature dance around a very mature, serious issue. He knows exactly why she's crying, she doesn't need to explain herself. He knows why she's being so painstakingly careful with her dietary intakes and how close she's getting to people. "I'm not going to let anyone hurt you."

They stay like that for a while. Jess is fresh of out tears once she finally pulls away and winces at the mascara stains she's left behind on his shirt as evidence that she'd been crying. She licks her thumb and begins to rub at the black smudge, apologizing repeatedly.

"It's okay Jess, I'll take care of it. You go clean the eyeliner off your cheeks." He smiles, wiping away the wet trails streaming down her face. "I'll just get an apron or something."

"Are you sure?" She asks, her voice still shaky.

"Don't be silly, go ahead."

She looks down at her feet and then plants a final kiss on his cheek, standing on her tiptoes to do so. He cherishes it and places his hand over the spot she'd kissed, watching her stagger off in the direction of the bathroom.

"Hey."

Jess turns around to see a tall guy with dark skin and even darker hair, dressed in a sweater vest and slacks. She smiles at him and makes a note to not hang around this guy for too long.

"You're Jess, right?"

She looks at him with a raised eyebrow and turns to see if Nick is still standing where he was before she'd left. And to no surprise, he's moved along to the back-room for staff to seek out an apron. She averts her attention to this mysterious guy who's a hell of a lot more creepy now that she knows he knows her name.

"Uh, yeah. I'm just heading to the bathroom to, you know." She nods her head, pointing her finger at her smudged eye-makeup.

"I see." He grins. "Well, you don't know me I guess."

"No, no I do not." Jess affirms, anxious to get past this weirdo and get to the safety of the ladies' room. "And uh, I've got a boyfriend so if you could you know, not try anything."

"Oh, man no." The guy laughs, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinches and bats his hand away, in no mood for any human contact that isn't Nick. "I'm Arnesh, I'm Cece's cousin."

"Oh right, yeah. She said you were coming here." Jess smiles, slightly taken aback by the encounter. Surely Cece should be with this guy, but evidently, she'd left him to his own devices.

_Sure that works in places like Arizona, but not Los Angeles._

"What brings you here?" She asks, attempting to sound the least bit interested.

"Oh well, that's what I was just about to say." He begins, pulling his phone out of his pocket and showing her the screen. "Cece asked me to find you and bring you back to her place."

Jess takes the phone from him and reads the text, slightly sceptical that this is a genuine text from her best friend. It isn't in any way similar to the language Cece typically uses in texts. She is the queen of abbreviations, and this text is immaculate. The grammar is impeccable and there's not a single letter out of place.

"Uh huh." She nods. "Would you mind if I called Cece?" Her plan being to catch him off guard.

"Oh sure." Arnesh agrees. Jess looks up at him and then back down at the phone, pressing in Cece's number. She holds the phone to her ear and waits about four rings before she finally picks up.

"Hello?"

"Hey Ceese." Jess starts, keeping her eyes on her new acquaintance. "Did you ask your cousin to come get me?"

There's a brief pause, the space filled with the sound of a running hair-dryer becoming a lot more distant as Cece presumably moves away from it.

"Uh yeah I did, I need to talk to you. I can't come get you right now because I'm at this shoot at the moment. Arnesh has the keys to my car."

"Okay. Well, I'll see you later then."

"Mkay, bye babe."

"Bye."

She hangs up and hands the phone back to him. "Okay, I'll go with you, but I just need to tell Nick."

"I can wait." Arnesh smiles, joining his hands together at his groin.

Jess nods her head, still a little scared. Realistically, she should ask Nick to come along with her, but if this was something serious, then she knows that Cece would not appreciate the extra carry on, casually hanging out in her living room while she and her friend have a frank discussion that should not involve him.

"Nick." She calls, seeing him emerging from the double doors. "I, uh. Cece's cousin Arnesh wants me to go back to Cece's with him. It's something to do with Cece I'm not sure exactly what it is." She says hastily, clutching her phone tightly against her abdomen.

"Who the hell is Arnesh?" He asks, sounding a little ticked off that some random guy has come to take the mother of his child away from him so suddenly without a valid excuse.

"Cece's cousin, I just told you that." She repeats. "Look, I know it's weird, but I don't think he's going to murder me or anything."

"Do you want me to come along?"

Jess peers behind her and notices the man leaning against a column by the exit. She turns back to Nick and pulls him down to her so she can whisper into his ear. "If you don't mind." She sighs. "Could you follow us?"

"Sure no problem, I've just gotta clock out." He says, patting her on the shoulder and turning to go back into the staff-lounge. He throws his dish-towel over his wrist and Jess lingers by the doors. Arnesh hasn't noticed her yet, and she's really hoping he doesn't notice the random brown car following behind them the entire way to Cece's. She shouldn't be like this, but she isn't about to be left alone with some guy she just met. No matter who he is or what his purpose of being there is. Jess is normally good around random people, and usually hits it off immediately, but now that she's with child and she's ten times more vulnerable and emotional, she feels the need to be protected by the one person she knows she can one-hundred per cent trust. She waits before she makes an appearance again until she finally sees Nick heading back out.

"Okay, I'm ready to go." She says calmly, pulling her coat on.

"Excellent. After you." He offers, stepping out of her way. She sets off ahead of him and makes her way out into the bitterness of the night, wrapping her arms around herself to preserve heat.

Arnesh is about to open the door for her, but she blocks his hand and shakes her head, adamant that he is not to treat her like a single woman he might have a shot with, especially since she can see Nick's maroon hoodie against the streetlights as he makes his way to the back of the bar. He'd always kept his own reserved spot away from any potential thugs who could easily key his car and take off with it with a paperclip. She thanks Arnesh for the gesture and opens the door herself, clambering into the passenger seat. Cece's car is tiny. It's a Sports-Car with only two seats, but Jess' small stature basically leaves a hell of a lot of room for twenty Jess's. Or maybe, you know, three. The lights automatically switch on once Arnesh climbs in beside her. He turns to look at her, and she smiles awkwardly back at him, feeling extremely tense and uncomfortable.

"You have very beautiful eyes." He smiles, leaning in a bit too close for Jess' liking.

"Thank you." She says, pushing herself up against the side of the car, seriously wishing Nick wasn't in a whole other place altogether. "But, uh, I'm not too comfortable with compliments, having a boyfriend and all." She nods, trying not to sound too harsh. Arnesh backs away and raises his hands in defeat.

"I understand, you wish to remain faithful."

"Yeah, yeah I do."

"I respect that." He smiles.

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

_Can you please just drive so I can get the hell out of here?_

* * *

She sets her sights on the side-mirror on her end of the car, watching for Nick driving nonchalantly behind them. Arnesh tries to no end to try and spark conversation with her, but her thoughts are elsewhere. He eventually gives up and starts humming some song that Jess has never heard of. She wants so badly to undo her seatbelt and roll out of the car just to escape this horrible situation.

It doesn't take long for them to get to Cece's apartment. She breathes a sigh of relief and quickly unbuckles herself from the seat, darting out of the car and up the steps to her apartment. Arnesh jogs up swiftly behind her and Jess moves far back away from him so she can keep look out for Nick's car driving into the complex after them. There's no sign of him yet. She bites her bottom lip and waits for her gateway to the elevator. She isn't sure she wants to spend any more time in a confined space with this man, especially since she's now at the loss of her 'bodyguard.'

"Uh… I'm gonna take the-." She cuts off at the ding of the elevator coming to the floor a lot faster than she'd anticipated and she clears her throat, dipping her head in acceptance as he smiles that extremely creepy and unnerving smile and stands back for her to go in before him. She presses her back against the cool metal as the elevator takes it sweet damn time to get to their designated floor. She plays with her hair and checks her phone for any alerts from Nick. She contemplates texting him, asking him to come and get her before she has a panic attack, but she refrains from doing so, passing off her worries as poor judgement and a little crazy. She really should try to make an effort with this guy, so once they get off the elevator and into Cece's living room, Jess offers to get him something to drink, something he should be doing for her.

"No thank you dear." He replies, drawing a confined shudder from her as he brushes against her. She immediately regrets her turn of opinion and turns to leave the kitchen to call Cece. She _so_ doesn't want to have to pretend to be okay with all of this, nor should she have to. She has every right to be uncomfortable.

She. Doesn't. Know. This. Person.

So of course she's going to react badly when he tries to stop her from leaving.

"You know." He says, in a deep voice. "Your boyfriend isn't here right now."

She gulps and looks up at him, her eyes wide. "N-no, but."

She is stopped dead in her tracks when he places a finger over her lips to shush her.

"He wouldn't have to know." He smiles deviously, trailing a finger down Jess' hips. She bats his hand away and looks up at him angrily, not about to take any crap from this random stranger who clearly has no concept of respecting women.

"Get your hands off me." She screams, storming away from him. She makes a beeline for the door, but is quickly stopped once again. He grabs her by the arm, a sickeningly familiar gesture, and pulls her back to him, pushing her against the mint-green walls and pressing his lips to hers. She squirms and lets out muffled shrieks in the hopes that someone will come in and find her. She pushes him back, trembling too much to run from him. He scowls and tilts his head, caging her between his two outstretched arms and bringing his face painfully close to hers. She turns her cheek to him and shuts her eyes, refusing to believe that any of this is happening.

"Get off me, you bastard." She mutters through gritted teeth.

"Now, now. We don't have to make a scene of things." He drags out, pulling her face back to his. "Your eyes…" He whispers. "They're so blue. I bet that's something your boyfriend loves about you."

"I'm gonna tell Cece about this." She growls, trying to find the strength to hit this asshole square in the face, but she's so genuinely terrified, she can only bring herself to lash out at his chest, probably not even hard enough to bruise him. She holds her phone tightly in her other hand, held discreetly behind her back. He pulls a fistful of her hair to his noise and inhales deeply.

"Oranges. My favourite fruit." He grins. "I can tell you're going to be an easy target."

_Where the hell is Nick?!_

* * *

"Stupid old lady drivers." Nick scowls as he pulls into the complex. It had taken him an extra ten minutes to get there after some old bat had decided to pull out right in front of him. Couldn't she tell he was trailing behind someone? He sees Cece's car and assumes that Jess had gotten there without being murdered. He tosses his keys in his hands and steps out of his car, feeling a buzzing in his pants pockets. He reaches inside and pulls out his phone.

*Incoming call*

_Jess_.

He picks up and holds the phone to his ear. "Jess? Are you okay up there?"

He doesn't hear anything except for a lot of moving and faint squealing. He waits for a moment, leaning up against his car while trying to listen for actual dialogue.

"She must have pocket dialled me." He frowns, about to put the phone down. She has a habit of doing this, and charging him a fortune. He'd best hang up fast or else he'll have no minutes left. As he goes to hit the end call button, an unfamiliar voice sounds through the speaker, catching his attention.

_"I bet your boyfriend doesn't kiss you like this."_

He stares down at his phone and brings it back to his ear, making sure to sound as angry as possible. Who the hell is this guy and why the hell is he _kissing _his girlfriend? And what kind of nerve has she got to call him during this supposed make-out session they've got going on.

"I don't know who this guy is, Jess." He half-shouts into the phone. "But I'm coming up to put an end to whatever the fuck you two are doing up there."

Without waiting for a reply, he forces his phone back into his pocket and sprints up the stairs to the apartment, taking the hard option of the several flights to get there. He doesn't even care that he's running out of breath, he has to get up to Cece's and knock this asshole to the ground.

Once he gets into the hallway, he speed-walks around the corner to her door, avoiding running into some old lady who'd just come out of the elevator on the other end of the building. He searches for this so-called plant that Cece had talked about putting a key under and tips it over the minute he sees it, retrieving the silver object and jamming it into the lock, barely giving himself time to comprehend what he's doing and forces the door open. He scans the room for Jess and this wise guy who seems to think that she's a free for all.

"Jess?" He yells the second the door swings open.

It doesn't take long before he comes face to face with the culprit who's got Jess pressed up against the wall with his pants unbuckled. His hand is over her mouth while he stares at Nick, bearing his teeth at him.

"Nick!" She muffles beneath his grip. Nick doesn't think twice about throwing his fist into the side of this guy's face, making him stumble and fall back onto one of Cece's lamps, crashing down with the glass particles and crying out as they dig into his skin. Jess is still frozen stiff against the wall, shielding her face, ashamed of having Nick seeing her like this. Her hair is a mess and her lips are throbbing from the force brought suddenly upon them. Her eyes are stinging with tears.

"Try me, asshole, I dare ya!" Nick threatens in a thick Chicago accent.

Arnesh glares up at him, wincing in pain as the porcelain particles jab into him, drawing blood almost instantly.

"Nick, please don't hurt him." Jess cries, not wanting to have to go through anything else. "Just get me out of here." She pleads.

Nick looks at her, his face is dangerously red and the veins in his neck are prominent as they pulse with every breath he takes. He wants to put a knife between this bastard's shoulder blades and leave him for dead, but his primary concern is getting Jess home safe without getting into any trouble. He sucks saliva from the inside of his cheeks and spits straight onto Arnesh's forehead.

"You're lucky that wasn't a bullet." He finishes, taking Jess into his arms and holding her close to him. He should probably call the cops, but he doesn't want to delay her any further and decides to put it off and wait for Cece to call asking about her broken lamp. Then he can break the news to her that her cousin tried it on with Jess and then almost forced her against her own living room wall.

"Come on love." He says comfortingly, walking slowly so she can take her time with getting herself back together. He pulls the door shut with him and strokes Jess' hair, shushing her every time she cried in the efforts of calming her down. He doesn't speak, he just holds her, rocking her gently as they wait for the elevator. He kind of hopes that he runs into Cece on the way down, but at the same time, he knows Jess doesn't want to make a fuss of all this.

They sit in Nick's car, Jess on his lap as she cries into his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry Jess." He whispers. "I'll never let that happen again."

She pulls away from him and sniffs, wiping her tears away with her sleeve. Two buttons on her cardigan have been forcefully ripped off and her dress strap is hanging halfway down her shoulder. She can't understand why the one time she puts faith in the universe, it fails her, and she starts crying again. He has to coax her off of him in order for him to start the car and get her home, but he lets her rest her head on his shoulder the whole way.

"I'm gonna get you to bed, Jess, and I'm gonna make you your favourite cocoa, and I'll stay with you all night, okay? I won't let anyone near you, not even the guys." He says gently, keeping his eyes on the road. "I never expected for that to happen Jess. I just thought he'd, you know, try to get you to eat something shady and poison you."

She doesn't respond.

Nick sighs, and mentally scolds himself for letting her go off with a total stranger. He'd been convinced that, because he's Cece's cousin, he'd have to be nice, right? Wrong. In fact, he couldn't have been more wrong. And now he hated himself. He's determined to get her into her room, lock the door and hold her until she falls asleep. He'd have to make an extra effort with cuddling tonight, because she isn't going to put much work into it. He doesn't mind though. He'd caught her in time. Had it not been for that old woman it probably would never have happened, but thank God it didn't go farther than it was threatening to.

* * *

They get in safely. Nick carries Jess in from the elevator, because she's pretty much given up on walking. He neglects the cocoa thing and immediately sets her down into her bed, bringing in extra blankets from his room for her. Her eyes are closed, and the skin around them is red and black with smudged mascara and eyeliner. He helps her out of her dress and gives her one of his sweatshirts rather than a complicated button-up shirt that he really has no time to be dealing with, and fetches her a set of pyjama pants with pink and black flowers. Once he's played the role of father to her, he focuses on getting her under the blankets, holding them back for her to climb in. She's hesitant, but eventually lies down. She's still in shock, and it's painful to watch, but Nick knows that needs to pretend that he isn't just as shocked as she is. He gets in beside her and pulls her in from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist. She chokes out tearless sobs as he presses a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"I know it's hard, Jess." He whispers, looking down into her heavy, tired eyes and wiping away a single tear that has begun to fall from them. "But you have to try to sleep."

She nods her head subtly and rests her head against his chest, closing her eyes as he breathes softly on her still trembling skin. He being so tender and caring helps her to relax and steady her breathing. He doesn't try to get her to talk, or force her into confiding in him, he just lets her do her own thing and be inside her own thoughts, no matter how dark he thinks them to be.

It's unfair to her, to have to have gone through something as awful as this. He seriously wishes he'd thrown that guy out the window of Cece's apartment, because now the anger he'd waited for is beginning to creep up on him. She'd been so happy before she left with him. Everything had begun to brighten up for her. They'd resolved their differences, they'd kissed and made up, and now everything is looking down for her again. He continues to hold her, fighting off the urge to sleep in case she wants to talk. In case she wants to vent. He waits until he hears her shallow breaths in rhythm with her slumber before he lets himself go too.

She stirs a little and he places a firm hand on her shoulder, holding her close to him.

"Sleep, love." He plants a final kiss on her forehead. "Sleep."


	17. Author's Note

**Author's note**

* * *

Hey all! So, this story recently reached 100 follows and man am I excited! I had never intended on it getting such a great response when I first came up with the idea. It was originally going to be a mere 5 chapter story, but as it progressed, I found myself becoming very dedicated to it and writing in class, in bed, in the car. I just wanted to say thank you so much for all your great reviews and for taking the time out to share your opinions! They're really helpful, I must say.

Anyway, the basis of this note is just to lay out a little warning for anyone who plans on reading on 'til the end. You're probably noticing the story taking a downwards spiral and becoming a lot darker, but I can assure you I'll do everything I can to make it a little less OOC, but that doesn't eliminate having to add some traits to the character's personalities and putting them through scenarios you'd never expect to happen on the show. For future reference, it's going to get a lot more serious and real.

Once again, thank you so much for all your support! You guys are the best :D

Chapter 17 shall be up tomorrow.

-Sophie


	18. Chapter 18

**Be forewarned: I'm in one of those moods where I write really descriptively. This chapter will cover the events of the night before, only in a different perspective on Nick's end of it. What he imagines could have happened, only unwillingly. It comes to him in a dream. I'll stop talking now.**

**Once again, I apologise for this sudden change of tone. I promise I'll be a little less audacious in chapter 19.**

**I hate doing this but I do believe that it will help as you read the chapter, to build up atmosphere and make it a little emotional. I'll be continuing this addition to the story in the next chapter too, but for now I won't have you running around YouTube, digging songs out to match the story.**

_Designated song: The XX – Together_

**Disclaimer: I don't own New Girl or any of the characters.**

* * *

He rolls over, pulling the black floral covers to his chin, stretching out his arms to snuggle up to Jess. The rays of the morning sun are beginning to spill in through the opaque curtains, only slightly drawn across the huge window. Somewhere in the middle of the night, he'd kicked off his socks and they're now lying at a generous distance away from each other at the foot of the bed. Her bed is exceptionally comfortable, much more than his. The sheets are immaculate, the faded pastels of green material are without a single crumb, something that he'd known since he'd been in college, or even earlier, and the mattress isn't too soft, nor is it too hard. He doesn't understand why she constantly opts to sleep in with him in his room when she's blessed with such a serene set-up. Nevertheless, he doesn't question it, especially since he cherishes her warmth pressed up against him, her sweet breath on his skin as she sleeps.

This night had been a lot more different. She'd felt eerily, deathly cold. Her breathing had been lapsed, and he'd often awoken during the night to assure that she didn't have trouble breathing, like she'd been experiencing a panic attack in her sleep. The sheer terror of having to rouse her in order to sit her up and help her ease back into her breathing sends shivers down his spine, because he is in no way qualified to help someone in that situation, nor does he have a reasonable tolerance for it and would probably end up breaking down and climbing out the window again. Thankfully, she'd been still enough and slept relatively easy that night, from what he'd seen the hour he'd laid awake and watched her. She whimpered a lot, and never really kept still, but she hadn't woken up in a state of distress.

He squints against the brightness, and rubs at his eyelids, coaxing himself out of his sleep riddled mind-set. Once his vision becomes clear, he notices the cold emptiness beside him, her presence absent. He furrows his brow and sits up, patting the isolated sheets where she should be. An air of vacancy lifts from them, icily lingering at his fingertips. He doesn't have time to think before he clambers out of bed, dragging the duvet with him and dropping it onto the floor with a gentle thud. He peers out into the hall. His door is cracked open, the same as how he'd left it the previous day. Winston's door is shut, and he can only see the profile of the bathroom door, albeit he notices the light casting from beneath the threshold. He runs a hand through his hair and clears his throat of trapped breaths. He can hear the faint hum of the shower, and can only assume that if Schmidt hasn't already left for work, that she must be in there, in which case, he hasn't got a genuine reason to intrude on her. So with that in mind, he makes his way back to her room, picks the duvet up from the floor and buries himself under the bundle of dark fabric, still only a little warm. He uses one of her pillows as a succedaneum for her astray, still being, enough to lull him back into a trance, into the depths of his own thoughts, so tormented with the final trickles of rage he'd been unable to summon out of him the night before. He'd held back, fighting with a vengeance the urging aggression spiralling out of control in his veins as the blood rushed to his head, throwing such an overwhelmingly tenacious blow to his target's temple, unsure whether or not it had been strong enough to have drawn blood. A small part of him still wanted to believe that he'd been completely ludicrous to storm out, his arms occupied by her tiny, shuddering frame, rather than to have finished him off with a shiv of broken glass from the demolished lamp. It seems equally as ludicrous for him to have followed through with it, thus, it wouldn't have been a win-win situation regardless. Overcoming such a strong repugnance for this man, someone he so greatly wishes hadn't been associated even remotely with Cece, will be a taxing request coming from his own conscience.

And then he realizes that he's dreaming, and his mind is speaking to him in such a lyrical manner that he's almost sure this is some form of personal rectification he's experiencing. He doesn't know, or really understand why all of a sudden, one measly event in the grand scheme of things is bringing about such drastic ideas and thoughts, which consist of him believing that Jess is not the only one at a loss here, in mentality. He feels as though these ideas of becoming inadvertently violent, something he's only ever known very little of, are seeming very amiable to him, and that's terrifying. He knows all too well that Jess had pleaded with him to pull himself together and take her into the safety of his arms, the arms that she may not have desired as much if he had given in, for a reason. To keep him at bay from trouble, to avoid a call from the police later that night to lock him up for attempted murder and assault. He'd have left evidence, and he has no alibi, so really, he'd gotten away without blood on his hands, metaphorically and literally. Jess isn't going to come clean about it being an act of self-defence, because she's too trustworthy of people, and she isn't one to work quickly at getting people put in the face of justice. She's not that kind of person. Which is why this guy is making him doubly angry, and he loses all control of his thoughts once he feels himself drifting further and further into slumber.

* * *

_Though befuddled, the scene plays out before him, in slow motion, sharply and with crisp clear audio. He is looking through the eyes of an alternative version of himself. He sees Jess, cowering with her hands balled into fists over her eyes against the corner of the bookshelf she'd been pushed beside. The next thing that comes into view is her stance, so weak and limp, and he can see the inky teardrops streaming down the side of her face. To see her in such dolour, induced by the tall man he has just forced onto his back on the floor in front of him, sparks outrage somewhere within him. He leans down, and he feels the right corner of his lips begin to twinge and curl upward, forming a devious half-smile beneath his animosity stricken eyes. He's looking straight at the panicked figure, masqueraded by the darkness, only half affected by the bleak desk lamp that Cece doesn't actually own. His subconscious is beginning to make things up, not that it's too much of an effect on the situation. He runs his fingers over the pieces of sharp glass particles that had been knocked viciously from the structure of the lamp. With curiosity and determination, he picks one up, analyses it for a moment, and narrows his eyes. It should all be happening a lot more abruptly than how he's dreaming it. In reality, Arnesh would have escaped with only a battered eye and Jess would be left, still trembling, at the loss of any comfort that he should be giving to her rather than acting on such a tenacious impulse. He can see how the jagged shard of gas blue porcelain rips through his deep caramel complexion, drawing a piercing, earth shattering screech from the pit of his lungs. It's deafening, and begins to sound like an underwater cry as in echoes in Nick's ears. He can see his reflection in the first drop of deep scarlet, almost black blood as it peeks through the fresh wound and races downwards, pooling onto the beige carpet, leaving a prominent stain between the frayed threads of material. Jess is screaming at him from a distance, and she sounds so much further away than from where she stands. She's begging him, with a shaky voice and a limp posture, almost falling to her knees with panic. She's screaming at him to stop, he can feel her tugging at his shoulders, pulling him back with a mediocre force, but he somehow gives way, and falls back suddenly, knocking into her shins and collapsing at her feet. She's standing back from him, both hands clasped over her mouth, gaped open in shock. Nick props himself up onto his elbows to observe his work and suddenly what he'd assumed to be a small gash has become much more extensive and is gushing with blood, spilling out mercifully and pooling around his slowly dying body. Jess' screams are suffocated by a presence he cannot identify that are limiting the vividness of his dreams, but they are equally as glass-shattering and are sending him into a purgatory, whereby all he can see in front of him, is a silhouette of the surrounding furniture, mashed into one giant blur, and the prominent rise and fall of Arnesh's chest. He doesn't recall ever striking him right above his heart, but dreams have their own way of making things happen, and so he knows only as much as his imagination allows. He's already beginning to forget why exactly he's bleeding in the first place, and why Jess is such a heartbroken, trembling mess behind him, and piecing together these clues aren't working in his favour. Everything starts to speed up and happen all at once, but then individually and he can't keep up with the myriad of images passing through his mind almost as quickly as they'd arrived. _

_"Nick, I can't be with someone who acts so rashly. I don't want that kind of environment for our child." She sighs. "I think we should call it."_

_They're in a hospital room, with nothing out of the ordinary to make anything stand out. Jess is lying in a bed, with her hair pinned back into a high ponytail, and she's encased in clinically white bed sheets, her form outlined in the fabric as it's tucked into her figure. She has her hands out in front of her, clasped tightly together, and she's looking down. Nick is sitting in the chair by the window, facing away from her, keeping his eyes on the parking lot below the room. He watches the cars come and go, some people with flowers and balloons, also carrying a baby's cradle. Others are without any gifts, some are emotionless, while others are doubled over, overwhelmed with hard-hitting emotions. He is scratching at his unkempt stubble with his thumb and forefinger and his legs are spread out, crossing over at the ankle in front of him. He can't tell exactly what he's wearing, but from what he sees, he's got ugly mustard yellow sweatpants on and he's wearing dress shoes. He doesn't really seem too phased by this, because he's already drained of any emotion. _

_"I was expecting for you to say that." He chokes, refusing to even look at her._

_There's a silence. _

_Nick traces the outline of a tree in the distance with the condensation on the windows and smudges it away with his thumb. She sighs and looks over at him, her eyes deadened and lacking any brightness. Schmidt and Winston hadn't shown. Jess isn't hooked up to any machines and she hasn't got a single bead of sweat on her ivory skin. Her lips are hauntingly red, almost the only colour in her washed out face. They're the same colour as the blood Nick had drawn from Arnesh._

_"You did great, Jess. You'll be a great mom." He sighs and re-crosses his legs, placing both hands on his thighs. "You don't need me."_

_She tilts her head upwards and pats the space beside her, gesturing for him to sit._

_"Come here." She whispers, a forlorn frown gracing over her lips._

_He doesn't hesitate. He staggers over to her bedside and slowly lowers himself down beside her. She stares up at him sadly, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tightly, comfortingly. Her veins are prominent beneath her skin. She smells divine, like a rose garden mixed with honey and vanilla. She looks fragile, but she has the strength to make him feel weak. He sees the strain to make herself show emotion, and she leans forward, brushing her forefinger along the crease of his lips before meeting hers with his. The kiss lacks passion. It's dead. It feels slightly forced, while also being abandoned by effort. Her lips have no aroma, no effect on his, and it lasts for a mere three seconds, before she pulls away and sighs. They look away from each other, her hand still grasping his. _

_The faded patter of soft-sole shoes on the hard, cold white marble of the floors makes itself known to the two when a nurse, dressed in a generic, 1950s style nurses' outfit saunters in. She's tall, with a short blonde bob cut up to her ears. She has a certain pallor, and her eyes are grey. Almost as dead as Jess'. In her arms, she holds a tiny, squirming infant, wrapped in white and blue sheets, almost towel-like. She's wearing a knit-hat, but somehow that disappears, and a mass of thick brown replaces it. He doesn't even see the nurse move, but suddenly Jess is cradling the baby, whose eyes are wide open, revealing two bright blue orbits, also lifeless and weary. The baby doesn't cry, and Jess seems almost distant from her. She is holding her, and she is looking at her, but without affection or awe. Nick is back in his chair at the window, unaffected by the new arrival. When he turns to look at Jess, the significant cherry redness of her lips is being to fade, and trickle in droplets down her chin, disappearing once they hit the white fabric beneath her. They are drained, coloured an eerie white. _

_Before he can turn back, slowly and gradually, Jess begins to disintegrate, fizzling out slowly, not breaking position, into thin air. Before she goes completely, she glances at Nick, her eyes sad and filled with tears. They are boring into his, but they are hiding no messages, or any sort of feeling. _

_"You were the best thing that ever happened to me." _

_The octaves of her voice bounces off the walls and runs into itself, colliding with every word and making it echo, drifting off in whispers along with her._

* * *

"Okay, I am done trying to wake you up, Nick." Winston grumbles. "All I'm saying is, if my girlfriend were acting strange, I would wanna know what was up with her."

His eyes crack open and he darts up in bed, unable to process what exactly he'd just dreamed about. He doesn't have time to either, because once Winston had said the words 'acting strange,' he immediately snaps out of it and his focus is swapped instantaneously.

"Wait, Winston." He breathes. "What's wrong with Jess?"


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: I do not own New Girl. **

"She's been sitting there all morning." Winston whispers, making a barricade between his mouth and Jess' eyeshot with his hand. She's curled up in the middle of the couch, her legs pulled tightly to her chest and fastened in by her arms clasping at the knees. Her eyes are vacant as they focus on everything, while simultaneously focusing on nothing at all. She's wearing navy, washed out jeans and a long-sleeved black top that scrunches up at the shoulders. First of all, the absence of bows and ribbons in her hair is a clear warning sign, never mind the fact that her hair looks like it hasn't been attended to in days.

Nick scrunches up his face and watches her from the kitchen, nursing a cup of cold coffee. Winston is leaning on the counter-top, his free arm outstretched across the metal.

"I seriously think she's gone insane."

"I called it." Schmidt comments, sauntering out of his room in tight fitting yoga pants and a white blazer. Nick is too focused on Jess to make a comment on his attire, and merely makes a face when he takes a seat beside Winston.

"Do you know what's wrong with her, Nick? You've been spending a lot of time with her lately."

"I uh…"

They look at him unison, their expressions questioning and mildly confused. Coming up with a plausible excuse proves to be a difficult task, so he just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head unknowingly, masking a greater truth behind every breath he takes in. It's just clicked with him that he hasn't told either of them about Jess' pregnancy, and they hadn't brought it up in conversation, so they must still be oblivious.  
"I guess it's just her time of the month." He suggests, resting his cup on the counter and patting Winston on the back. "She'll be fine."  
The guys exchange dubious glances. Nick's back is turned towards the fridge and he brings out a bottle of ready-made pancake mix, the idea being that he'll try to bring Jess out of her cocoon of melancholy so that there'll be a little less suspicion in the atmosphere of the loft, because sooner or later, he's going to run out of excuses, and Schmidt will definitely catch on.

"I'm gonna make some pancakes, do you guys want any?"

"Do we have any blueberries?" Winston asks with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm not making fancy-ass pancakes, if you want those why don't you go to Paris or something."

He makes a face in response and reluctantly takes a plate from the cabinet. "Just don't cook them too thin."

"Yes Chef Ramsay." Nick says flatly. "I'll be sure to add in oregano or whatever the hell kind of spices those assholes use."

"Please don't touch my spices." Schmidt snaps through partly gritted teeth. "I do not have Cilantro Dill flown in from Southern Europe just to have your grubby hands all over them."

"What do you work as again?" Nick asks sarcastically.

"As if you two idiots would ever understand."

Nick finds a frying pan from beneath the counter and sets it on the hob. He scrapes a mini slab of butter onto the heat and jumps at the vicious sizzle as it melts almost instantly, forming a little yellow puddle in its place. He pours a generous amount of the mix on top of it, his senses overwhelmed by the stench of fat and flour merging together in the pan.

Schmidt takes a bottle of water from the fridge and tosses it between his hands. He brings himself closer to Nick so that their hips just barely brush and he brings his mouth to his ear, drawing an unwelcoming response from Nick in the form of an abrupt jolt. He barely has time to respond to the action before Schmidt begins whispering almost inaudibly, quickly, keeping an eye on Jess.

"I'm gonna go see what's up with her while you two fill your bodies with ridiculous amounts of E-Numbers and chemicals. I mean honestly Winston, if you ever want to be able to wear a bathing suit for the summer you're going to have given up these ludicrous eating habits."

Winston rolls his eyes.

"Observe, gentlemen. You're about to be given a lesson in the art of getting through to emotional women."

"Oh I'm sure." Nick scoffs, to which Winston seconds with a nod of agreement.

Nick watches over his shoulder as Schmidt moves slowly towards Jess, as though he were approaching some kind of rare animal likely to dart off in a lapse of terror at the sight of a potential predator. He turns to look back and give his roommates a thumbs up as he nears her, but Nick isn't really feeling this whole façade and gestures for him to move along, a little less like a frightened child.

He takes this on board and immediately picks up the pace, practically throwing himself in front of Jess and landing directly at her side on the couch.

And then something happens that none of the three had anticipated.

She flinches.

But not like an 'Oh, you startled me flinch.' This was the kind of flinch that never really seizes to make itself fade back into a myriad of breathless laughter when someone scares you. Jess' knees have fallen free from the grasp of her arms, stuck statically to the ground, her knees pressed together so tightly that it looks as though they have no way of parting, fettered together, restricting movement. Her shoulders are raised slightly, and the rest of her body is frozen stiff, her hands grasping onto the leather of the couch and her nails digging in, marking little creases in the material. She swallows, her breaths visibly bobbing, trapped in the back of her throat. It's as though she's had a reaction to being lashed out at. She squeezes her eyes shut all at the same time as the rest of her body and lets them relax a little once she frees her fingertips from their den and places them on her knees.

Nick is looking at her with such confoundment, completely taken aback by her reaction to something she'd been experiencing pretty much every day for the last four years. Even Winston has forgotten about his pancakes and ignores the sizzle of burning batter on scorching heat. They exchange equally confused glances and Nick shrugs once again, taking his hand off the handle of the frying pan.

Schmidt looks to Jess and leans back into the couch.

"What are we watchin', Jess?" He asks, as casually as he can. Her eyes are fixed to one spot on her jeans.

"I'm not watching anything." She mutters, before looking up at him and forcing a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"I see." Schmidt nods, very aware of how badly played out this whole thing is. He shakes his head and reaches forward to get the remote from the table. He hits the 'on' button and leans back, crossing his legs. She shuffles a little further away from him, her head shrinking back into her shoulders. He isn't looking directly at her, but out of the corner of his eyes he sees her legs are no longer tense and rigid, but are now shaking nervously. He acts like he doesn't notice.

"Well, let's change that." He smiles, beginning to flick through the channels. "Is there anything even worth watching on a Sunday morning?"

"Nick, what is up with her? Did something happen last night?" Winston asks in a hushed tone.

Nick considers the question and purses his lips, not sure if he should disclose the events of last night, especially since not even Cece has been told. He also doesn't know if Jess wants anyone to know, because from what he'd learned over the years from countless documentaries and _Real Life Stories_ in Jess' magazines she sometimes leaves in the bathroom, people who are victim to assault, no matter how mild, generally like to keep it between them and one other person and that's it.

"Not that I know of. And hey, the pancakes are burnt." Nick smiles sarcastically, tipping the blackened mess into the sink. "Guess that's a sign that I definitely should never try to cook." He claps his hands together and leans back against the countertop.

Winston's glaring at him with his arms folded across his chest.

"What?"

"Do you really need me to explain?"

Nick shakes his head. "I'm beyond confused right now."

"You can't expect for all of us to do your job, Nick. You need to start taking control."

"Okay, what are you talking about Winston?"

Winston stretches his arm out in Jess' direction and tilts his head.

"Your girlfriend, the girl you've dedicated two and a half years of your life to, is currently acting like a lost kid in the grocery store and you're over here messin' around with pancake batter."

"You _asked_ for these!" Nick defends, trying to keep a low register. She may be out of it, but she can probably still hear.

Winston shoots him a look of disapproval, which Nick tries to innocently play off.

"Just forget it, man. If you're not gonna go over there and help Schmidt, then I will." He stands up and clicks his tongue, moving away from Nick and towards Schmidt and Jess. He points a finger at him just as he steps away. "Just remember, every time you _don't_ do something, she's slipping further and further from you."

"I don't know what that means but if that's a threat I am really offended and I think you should re-evaluate how you treat your friends."

Winston rolls his eyes again and continues in the direction of the living room. Nick takes Winston's seat and cups his chin in his hands.

"Hey, Jess." Winston greets with a bright smile. She raises her hand to him and he takes a seat on the other side of her. She freezes again and clenches her jaw, clasping her hands together and resting them on her lap. She doesn't speak, but she lets out a noise that can only be assumed as a muffled 'hey.' Winston pats her on the shoulder and she immediately jolts away at his touch, gasping slightly.

"Sorry." She says quietly.

Winston furrows his brow and glances across at Nick, who's watching attentively as all this is going on.

"So Jess, whatcha been up to?" He asks. "I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks."

"I saw you last night."

"That you did." He nods. "That you did."

He looks to Schmidt, who's too focused on some Italian cooking show he's turned on to even notice that he'd joined them.

There's an awkward pause. Winston could name about two times that this happened. The first time being the silence between him and a girl he'd brought home in the hopes of getting laid, only for her to pour her heart out to him about how she was looking for affection after the loss of her Bichon Frise, and now this.

"Well, you know, since you and Nick left so early last night I was thinkin' we could have a movie night or something, your choice." He thumps Schmidt on the arm. "Isn't that right Schmidt?"

He snaps out of the concentration he'd put into the TV and shakes his head unknowingly.

"Huh?"

"I was just telling Jess that we should have a movie night or something, you know, just the four of us."

"Oh right yeah, sure." Schmidt agrees with a smile and quickly averts his attention back to the array of tomatoes and garlic this particular chef is using.

"You in Nick?" Winston calls to his friend, who has by now moved from the kitchen and into the living room, deciding that it's his turn to swoop in and try to coax Jess out of her shell.

"That sounds doable. I don't have a shift until tomorrow." He says coolly, sitting at the far end of the couch. He somehow senses that Jess doesn't want any more people crowding around her, especially since she looks like she's about to cave into herself if she squeezes her legs and arms any tighter together. "Just as long as it's not a chick flick, or something that'll make me wanna shoot the actors if I ever see them in the street."

"What do you think, Jess? You in?"

Jess smiles and cocks her shoulders. The guys see it as progress, while Nick can only look at her and try not to bring to light the sadness she's feeling. Something that Nick has learned to pick up on over the years is how Jess is feeling simply through subtle body language, not usually obvious to anyone else. For example, the way that her lips curl up when she smiles, as casual as it seems, he knows that she's forcing herself to put on a façade in order to keep other people's interests in mind. Of course, it's totally out of place for her to _not_ talk, not less the fact that she hasn't sung about anything for a week now, and they'd all noticed that. But Nick knows more, much more, about what's going on, and it isn't because of her menzies, or one of 'those off days', because what constitutes for an off day is something a little less extreme than finding out you're pregnant and almost getting taken advantage of by some creep a few days later. He knows that trying to wean her out of this state is something that doesn't involve simply throwing a bowl of ice-cream at her and turning on Dirty Dancing, no matter how many times it's worked in the past. He contemplates calling Cece, but he has the whole thing of telling her about what had happened when Jess had gone to her apartment, and that could result in a really bad reaction from Cece, who is pretty prone to defending her family. So far, the guys are doing a mediocre job at comforting her, but he isn't about to sit back and pass judgements when all he's doing is watching from the side lines and hoping for some kind of miracle to take him back to that moment on the beach in Hawaii.

"Well." Winston finally says. "I'm off to work. See you guys later."

"Do you want me to get anything on my way home?" He asks, going to sit up. He places a hand on Jess' knee as he moves, and she darts up immediately, practically jumping away from him and folding her arms nervously. The guys look at each other, dumbfounded, as she mutters a quiet "I need to go to my room for a sec." And scurries off, arms still folded, into the safety of her room.

"What in the name of…?" Winston asks, furrowing his brow.

Schmidt has been completely taken out of his own world and back to reality, his mouth hanging open in shock as a response to Jess' reaction.

"That was _weird." _He says, monotone. "I seriously think we need to put her on a leash or something."

"What are you two talking about?" Nick says flatly, straining to play this all off as something that just happened routinely. He wants to know why she'd reacted so badly to a simple touch, but he hasn't got the foggiest idea. Normally, she's climbing on top of the guys, hanging out of them, hugging them. And then with him, she initiates most of the cuddling and hand holding, and she's never hesitated to make it clear that she's one for physical affection.

"She's always jittery when she's on her period."

"Not like this, Nick. Not even you can say she's like this." Schmidt says, worry laced in each word. He stands up and places a hand on Nick's shoulder, which is generally a sign that he's about to get either really deep or really stern. "You need to go in there and see what's up with her, because I'm done trying. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an Orecchiette recipe to find."

Stern.

And with that, he too takes to his room.

Nick throws his head in his hands and groans. When he was told in college that he'd encounter obstacles before he became relatively satisfied with life, he'd never imagined it to this extent. It's only half past twelve in the afternoon, yet he's already had to deal with one hundred different things, and he still has to call Cece. Now would be a great time to punch his wall in.

* * *

She shuts the door behind her, shutting out a million questions left unanswered along with it. She'd only half anticipated her mind turning so drastically against her and everything she'd known before last night, but it was to be expected. She'd been through everything already, and she'd lain awake accepting the fact that she just isn't capable of trying to supress her feelings. The guys have no idea, Nick only knows half the story, and now even Cece's left out in the dark, the one who could pinpoint every emotion Jess had emitted and match them up to a liable reason. She stands alone again, and she'd have to try to monitor how much she lets out.

For some reason she's angry at Nick. Angry at him for not jumping in when he had the chance and telling the guys to back off and give her her space. He should have known why she'd been so sensitive to them when they came into direct contact with her. But she also knows that that's kind of far-fetched considering he probably thinks what happened last night was a first for her. He has no clue that what he assumes to be a mere scratch on the surface of Jess' wonderful, shiny life, is actually a familiar dagger, plunging repetitively into a polished, pristine façade she has managed to keep up for over ten years.

She leans against the door, her arms still folded tightly across her chest. Her breathing is shallow, as though she'd just overcome a panic attack. She pulls her sleeves up over her knuckles and clasps them together, tilting her head back and staring up at the ceiling.

The mirror is adjacent to her door, and for some nagging reason she needs to look into it just to remind herself that she's still alive and not a cold corpse buried six feet under despite how she feels right now, although that would make a hell of a lot more sense.

She moves towards it and takes a long pause as her eyes meet each other, tired and bloodshot in the reflection looking back at her. Her skin is ghastly pale, emphasizing the evidence that she's been sleep deprived in the form of dark circles and stress lines across her jawline from persistent clenching. She hardly recognizes herself.

Placing shaky fingertips on the apples of her cheeks, she winces at just how cold and dry her skin feels. The usual rosy glow has faded to a washed out pink patch, making it barely visible. She pushes her hair over her shoulder, revealing the little red spots, marking Nick's favourite places to nibble at. There are so few of them, something she hasn't been able to say in quite a while. She frowns and moves a hand down along her hip, centring it at her naval. She holds her palm there, slightly dumbfounded that there's a little Jess or Nick just beneath it. She brushes her fingertips over the black material of her shirt and she keeps her eyes fixated on her hand, gently circling it. She gives a half smile, feeling a little euphoric knowing that she's been given a second chance at this.

"Promise me you'll stay this time."

It's terrifying in two ways. The first being that she's talking to another person. A person that is not capable of hearing her, who has no hold over his or her own life. It's entirely up to Jess to maintain the integrity of this person's chance of survival, and that can easily be compromised. The second being that every word, no matter how mundane, is a jinx to fate.

"Jess?" His voice calls from the other side of her door. "Sweetheart, can I come in?"

She winces at the sound of his voice, so full of concern, and closes her eyes, coaxing out individual tears she'd been holding back since this morning. They fall directly to the ground, forming two tiny inky black puddles at her feet. She clears her throat and tries to make herself sound a little like her usual chirpy self.

"Yeah."

He wastes no time and opens the door before she can get another word in.

"Jess, what happened out there?"

She shrugs and shakes her head, fighting the urge to step back.

"I'm just a little on edge. Probably hormones or something."

He approaches her, his eyes fixated on hers, immediately sensing the anguish hidden away in them. She instantly tenses at the action as he comes closer to her.

He reaches out and gets his hand only just at her shoulder. "Jess, I-"

She flinches with a gasp and turns away from him.

"Jess, can we talk?"

She swallows. "About what?"

"You know what." He sits on her bed and pats the space beside him. "Come here for a sec."

She hesitates, but obliges and sits a fair distance from him.

"Okay." He begins. "What's with all the turning away from people? Is this something to do with last night?"

She rubs her arm and bites her lip, not sure if she's so ready to reveal anything yet. He waits patiently for her response.

"I, uh. No. Yes. Kind of." She cups her face in her hands and covers her eyes. "It's complicated, Nick. Can we talk about this some other time?"

"Jess, you've been saying 'can we talk about this some other time' so much recently and I'm starting to think that this _other time_ doesn't exist."

"Why are you pressuring me about this? I promise, I'll tell you when I'm ready."

He looks at her sympathetically reaches out to take her hand, but quickly refrains and places his hands down at his sides. Whatever she's hiding, he's sure it's connected to the news Cece'd delivered the other night, and that's emotionally straining enough on its own, let alone having additional problems thrown in on top of it.

"I hate seeing you like this, Jess. I feel so dumb just hanging around and not being able to help you."

She glances up at him with tear filled eyes. It's becoming increasingly painful to hold back, but she's adamant to keep everything in so as not to put her burden on someone else's shoulders.

"You know I love you, I'm not going to make you feel bad about this." He pauses, not sure he should say the next thing that comes out of his mouth. He lowers his voice and gives her a reassuring, but serious look. "The miscarriage wasn't your fault."

She stands up and takes a sharp breath, crossing her arms again. She does _not_ want to hear the 'm' word right now. Nick continues to sit, feeling slightly guilty about bringing it up, but it would have had to come up at some point.

"Jess, I know it's hard to hear-."

"Nick, I know you're trying to help and all but I really don't want to have this conversation."

He sighs and stands. She instantly backs up, inches from the wall.

"Jess, I need to know why you're acting so _weird. _And don't say hormones, I'm not that stupid."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She asks defensively. She can feel the impeding argument sparking and already she feels like she's going to pass out with anxiety.

"I didn't mean it like that." _How the hell does he constantly manage to do something wrong?_ _"_I just meant that you need to be honest with me."

She folds her arms and tries to assert herself. Standing against the wall, with him edging so close to her makes her nauseous. Sure, it's Nick, and he shouldn't be the one to make her feel uncomfortable, usually she's all up for being pushed up against the wall, but this time she wants to throw something at him and tell him to back up, but she can't find her voice enough to ask him.

"I don't know how I can be any more honest with you, Nick. You know the whole story."

"So why don't I believe you?" He says flatly, his eyes awash with concern and desperation.

"That's your problem, not mine."

She feels the tension begin to build up within her, threatening to burst and cause all sorts of things to be unwillingly blurted out.

"Jess, you're carrying _my _child. Everything that's in the past, we can put behind us and start fresh, but you're not going to keep your emotions bottled up."

"I'm not keeping anything bottled up Nick. I'm just…"

He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head. "You're just…?"

She shakes her head and closes her eyes. "I'm not… I mean I can't. It's behind me, we don't need to discuss it."

He doesn't say anything, but the way he looks at her is so coaxing that it's slightly annoys her.

"We do need to discuss it."

"Not now."

"Yes now."

His sudden eagerness makes her want to run out and not look him in the eye ever again, because she's coming to accept that he's going to win this battle, and once he does, every wound will be opened again and she isn't sure she'll be able to close them.

"Are you trying to make me angry or something? Because you're doing a really great job at it."

"No, Jess, I'm just trying to get you to _talk_. You're the one who always wants to talk about feelings and crap."

She frowns. Now he's using her words against her. "This is different."

"How is it different?"

"Because, Nick." She half-shouts at him. "This isn't about _feelings._"

The door suddenly cracks open and Winston peers through.

"Hey guys, I can sense I'm interrupting on something in here, but uh, I think I left the script for tonight's show in here."

They look at him in unison, a quizzical expression crossing Jess' features.

"Why is your script in _my_ room?" She asks suspiciously.

"I sometimes come in here to read it. The acoustics are good."

She rolls her eyes, not really all that surprised by this new information, because, come on, it's Winston.

"Sure, come in."

He thanks her and scurries around the room, pulling out her desk drawers and throwing the things in them aside.

"It's gotta be here somewhere…"

Jess taps her foot impatiently while avoiding eye contact with Nick, who she can feel staring at her with every move she makes. She feels victimized in her own room even though his last intention is to make her feel small in this situation.

Winston shuts the drawers and looks in behind the desk, spotting the bundle of pages, horribly creased and collecting dust lying on the floor.

"Ah-hah!"

He reaches down and retrieves them.

"Got 'em. I'll let you two kids talk." He smiles, holding the pages up proudly.

Jess bids him a second goodbye and glances across at Nick.

"You ready to tell me yet?" He outs with after a brief pause.

She purses her lips and shakes her head no.

"I'm not ready, Nick."

"Jess, please."

She feels her face getting hot with anger and nerves and she's liable to break at any moment. In the commotion that Winston had brought, she hadn't noticed how close Nick has moved to her. He's but a few inches from her, but he keeps a close distance so that he doesn't aggravate her any further. He's already pushing his luck by going from understand boyfriend to demanding counsellor.

"Why are you, I mean, why are you so bothered by this?" She asks, knowing damn well how stupid that question is.

"Why wouldn't I be bothered by the woman I love being too afraid to come within ten feet of me? Jess, you may not know this, but it's really difficult to keep calm when you're being so stubborn, and I'm starting to lose my patience a little. I know what happened last night was hard, but you can't go running away from anyone that tries to help."

"I've had help, Nick. I don't need any more _help._"

"But that doesn't change the fact that you're going to be reminded of it now that you're pregnant again." He says a little too loudly.

"Could you please lower your voice? Winston isn't gone yet."

She shuts her eyes and shakes her head, as though to relieve some of the stress building up inside, discarding the words she so badly wants to let out. Except, no matter how discreet she's trying to be about it, Nick picks up on it instantaneously and widens his eyes, realizing that this is something far beyond her miscarriage.

"Jess…" He takes a step towards her, unable to stop himself. "Was it with Spencer?"

She looks down at the ground, regretting ever saying yes to him coming in. There's no way he's going to leave her alone now that her body language is screaming more than she could ever summon the courage to physically say.

He takes another step, and he's only inches from her face. He places his hand on the wall behind her, almost caging her in, and her eyes dart up to it. She winces as flashbacks of last night come flooding back to her, mixed with those from ten years ago. She wants to bat his hand down, but then she'd be giving too much away and then she'd be a goner.

"Jess, please talk to me. Was it with Spencer?"

"Nick, stop!"

"I'm just trying to help."

Her breath catches in her throat and she begins to choke out tiny sobs, wrapping her arms around herself for comfort and to steady her nausea.

"Nick, I have to go."

"You're not going anywhere like this."

"I have a doctor's appointment! I can't _miss _it!" She's screaming now, desperately, terrified of what she'll say before she gets out.

"Jess." His voice is comforting and soothing, but to her it sounds aggressive and intruding, and she wants to cover her ears and hide in a corner until he leaves. She's seeing him as a completely different person, and she's beginning to forget what her Nick, the Nick she'd known before all this, really looks like. "I'm not trying to upset you, but it's going to be even worse if you don't talk to me."

She balls her hands into fists and looks straight up at him, her focus clouded by a drunken mess of confused thoughts and terrifying memories. She clenches her jaw and throws her hands up in defeat, raising her voice to an alarming extent.

"Do you want me to _talk_ to you, Nick? Is that what you want? Would you be _happy_ if I just told you **_everything?!_**"

"Jess, calm down-."

"No. No, Nick. I'll tell you everything."

He stares at her, taken aback by her sudden outburst.

"I lost a child. I lost a child by a man I didn't even _know,_ Nick. I was called every freakin' name by this guy, and I had to pretend I was fine! I had to pretend none of it affected me."

He stands still, frozen on the spot, feeling numb all over as she continues to scream out word after word of contempt. At the same time, to hear her start opening up so much is a relief, even if it is scaring him quite a bit.

"Jess, I don't understand. What do you mean you didn't know him?"

She inhales, but hasn't given up on screaming.

"What's so hard to understand, Nick? Isn't it obvious?"

"Isn't what obvious?"

She scoffs sarcastically. "Are you _trying_ to make this even more difficult for me?"

"No, I-."

It feels like there's a huge gap between his words and hers, because what she says next drowns every other sound out.

"I was taken advantage of, okay?! Does that _explain_ it for you? Do you understand now?"

His first instinct is to pull her in, hug her, and tell her how proud he is of her for telling him that, but she has other ideas. The second he gets one arm around her, she darts away from his touch and she's grabbed her bag from her chair. "I'm going to the doctor." She says quietly, suddenly realizing everything that's just happened. She speed walks from her room to the door and Nick chases after her, calling frantically as she tears off ahead of him.

"Jess, wait! I'm sorry!"

The answer he receives is the click of the door catching in the frame and locking behind her. He sighs and shoves his hands in pockets, feeling satisfied but equally guilty as he stands alone in the hallway. He contemplates waiting there for her until she gets home, but he has a feeling that it isn't going to be as simple as that.


	20. Chapter 20

**I warned you it would be getting a lot more dramatic, did I not. **

**Apologies for the delay in this chapter, I've been going through some 'ehhh' moments and I've been lacking in confidence in my writing, but I got over it so yay!**

***A mini author's note.***

**I'm fully aware that this is so far-fetched in terms of what New Girl is all about, but I've always wanted something serious to happen on the show (I know it won't) and I know that this is an extremely sensitive topic for many readers. I suggest that if you aren't comfortable with the story that you don't read past this chapter, since it's about to get a lot heavier and more and more of you will start thinking 'what the literal hell is she smoking?' This ****_does_**** deal with taboo subjects and subjects that I've noticed some people don't want to read about, but I'll put this into perspective: People ****_are actually interested in it._**** I'm going to please those who are enjoying it rather than just giving up on it altogether, that isn't what a good author does.**

**Don't worry, I'm writing a multi-chapter fluff fic to make up for it.**

** On a lighter note, enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own New Girl or any of the characters.**

Getting out of the loft is a breath of fresh air. She sits in her car outside of the clinic, analysing her red, blotchy face and tear stained cheeks, wiping away the evidence that she's been crying so she doesn't get further interrogated by the doctor once she sets foot in her office. She'd known she'd have to tell him at some point, but she'd been sure that it wouldn't have gone as publicly or as dramatically as it had, let alone how quickly it started and how quickly it ended. She can't fault herself entirely. Nick _had_ pushed her to the edge, and he must have seen the hurt in her eyes when he'd first come into her room. Everything she'd done that morning should have been a sign for him to lay off.

She tries to put it to the back of her mind. It shouldn't interfere with her getting on with life ten years later. She still has the grounds to be upset and she definitely has the right to openly vent about it, but by her own choice, she'd promised herself that things could only go up from here. It's just that now, opening a fresh wound in the midst of all these changes is not something she'd anticipated. Her plan from hereon is to talk to Cece about everything, because on her salary, there's no way she's lobbing out money to pay for therapy sessions that her best friend can give her for free, the only difference is that of a diploma hanging on the wall across from her.

Taking a tissue to her mascara-stained eyelids and fixing her hair to make it look like she's put some effort into it, she proceeds to make her way into the large white building and heads for the Maternity ward, feeling slightly empty at the absence of Nick's hand in hers. She'd always dreamed of this when they first got together. It had all been pre-planned in the early hours of the morning while she laid awake, pulled up to his chest and feeling his warm breaths on her neck. He would come to every appointment with her and see every last sonogram of their child. She tries to reassure herself as she passes two other couples holding fliers and their heads pressed lovingly together as they read from them, pretending like she doesn't notice the ecstatic expressions across their faces. Convincing herself that this will be her first and last appointment without Nick is the only faint glimmer of hope in this whole crazy spiral of events.

* * *

"Jessica Day?"

The nurse's voice sounds distant. Once she makes eye contact with her, she stands, smiles as she normally would, and follows after her down a long corridor that smells robustly like chlorine and seems to have about forty contrasts of white painted on the walls and ceiling. Small notes are pinned onto noticeboards with numbers and notices about flu-shots and the importance of folic acid, and Jess uses these as an outlet to distract herself from how painfully long the journey to the nurse's office/examination room is.

Finally, Jess is leaded into a relatively large room, basic enough, equip with a standard examination bed and the ultrasound machine that takes up a generous amount of space. The nurse introduces herself as Marie Campbell and Jess does the same and takes a seat opposite her. This nurse has a voice like you'd hear in a Disney Princess movie. It's the ideal voice to hear when you're tired, emotional and need some form of comfort.

"So, Jess…" She trails off, bringing Jess' records up on the computer. "Jessica Day... And you are…" She clicks the mouse a few times before finishing her sentence. "Two months pregnant. Is that correct?"

Jess nods and Marie turns in her seat, clasping her hands and resting them on her knees. "Okay Jess, so the basis of this visit is just to see how your baby is doing in terms of the heartbeat, organ development and then we're just going to have a brief discussion about your pregnancy to clear up any questions you might have." She smiles brightly, warmly, making Jess feel a little less tense than she'd felt before she came in. "Does that sound good?"

"That sounds good." Jess smiles back.

"Great! So, what I'm gonna do is ask you to just hop on up onto this bed here."

They both stand again and Marie takes a large thin spread of examination table paper, smoothing it out on the blue waxy cushioning before Jess is ushered onto it. Jess half expects for the nurse to ask about her 'husband' or whatever professional term there is other than 'baby daddy.' Alas, she's not questioned about it and is instead politely asked to lift her shirt, slide her pants to her upper thigh and is given a white sheet to cover from the waist downwards.

"Now Jess, from looking at your records I know that you've experienced all of this before." Marie says warily, careful not to be too touchy on the subject.

Jess nods and gives a sheepish half-smile in response.

She sets up the ultrasound machine and walks to a large white cabinet just over a white countertop covered in trays of gauze, syringes and latex gloves. She reaches into it and retrieves a plastic bottle with a narrow nozzle and snaps on a pair of the latex gloves before returning to her seat beside Jess.

_This nurse smiles more than I do_.

"This will feel very cold when it touches your skin, but I promise it'll be worth it." She points to a monitor on the wall beside the bed. "That screen there will show you the scan, and you'll get to hear the heartbeat on that too. We got a generous donation from one of our patients last year and we splurged out on fancy new equipment." She laughs, shaking the bottle in her hand to loosen some of the gel from the bottom.

Keeping up a cheery façade, Jess willingly laughs along with her, wanting for all of this to be done and over with. Normally she'd be the one initiating the jokes and the giggles, but this time she just wants to lie down, see her son or daughter, get a print of the sonogram and get the hell out of there and go straight to Cece's. She contemplates going home a few times, but then that would mean facing Schmidt as well as Nick, who _must_ have heard them. Still, she has yet to tell the rest of the guys about the new addition to their little loft family, but she decides that she'll tell them once she becomes noticeably larger so that they don't freak out about her putting on weight so quickly. She's got enough on her plate at the moment than to be having each and every person in the loft fussing over her. Except they've probably figured it out by now anyway on account of all the throwing up she's been doing lately.

"Jess?" The nurse's voice echoes once again, like it's travelling to her underwater.

She's snapped abruptly back to reality and shakes her head to ease out of the daze.

"Are you okay, dear? You seemed to be off in some other world."

"Oh yeah." She chirps. "I was just thinking."

"Well, let's see what you've got going on in there. Or _who_ you've got, I should say." Marie winks.

And before she can respond, she's being lathered with the bitterly cold, translucent blue saline gel. She winces and the nurse smiles empathetically.

"Told you it would be cold." She grins.

_Is it wrong that I'm starting to feel like Nick right now? I think I finally understand why he gets angry at the lady in the grocery store for talking to him about every last item he puts on the conveyor belt._

_"Oh, I had these lamb-chops for dinner last night. The kids loved them."_

_WHO CARES?!_

Marie begins to slowly move the scanner over Jess' abdomen, dragging the gel out into every last crevice of her skin. She doesn't look up at first, but when the nurse finally starts cooing about how tiny it is, even for twelve weeks. Jess tenses up and stares worriedly at the nurse, feeling a knot begin to form in her stomach. Marie instantly picks up on her concerns and smiles reassuringly.

"Don't worry, sweetie, it's totally normal for petite women to start off small."

Jess takes a deep breath and relaxes back, turning her head slightly to see the monitor. The second she sees the little fuzzy black and white figure begin to become more prominent on the screen, she feels her heart jump a little. She becomes instantly captivated by the image and feels the emotions she'd kept bottled up for the duration of here time here give way and make themselves known to everyone present. Tears stream unforgivingly quickly down her hot cheeks and she lets out a little whimper. To see it all come to life is overwhelmingly euphoric and she feels everything bad she'd felt earlier slip from her conscience. She only wishes Nick was here to experience this with her. In fact, it's also extremely heart breaking, and she almost asks Marie if she can get her phone to call him, but she knows that won't be happening any time soon. She creates an idea in her head that Nick is sitting outside, and he gets to see all of this happening on his own private monitor, and she pretends that he's smiling and biting his cheek to stop himself from crying, because that's the kind of guy Nick is. He'd have loved to have seen all of this.

"So here you can see his or hers little legs." Marie says softly, pinpointing the areas Jess should look at on the monitor. "And of course, the head, which seems to be developing just fine."

"Is there a heartbeat?" Jess asks naively, but out of genuine concern. Marie wastes no time in moving the scanner around directly to a spot where the sound is more prominent, and Jess' fears are tossed aside when the gentle thuds of the heartbeat become clearer to her, as though she'd been unable to hear since she'd began talking. The evidence that her child is still with her adds to the emotion and she drops her head to her chest, letting out sobs with every breath.

Marie continues to speak, hoping that she'll be able to lull Jess out of this state before the visit is over. She knows that this is a particularly difficult time for her, and allows her the freedom to cry as much as she wants, and it seems to be working because almost as soon as she starts, she begins to calm down and avert her gaze to the nurse.

"Sorry." She sniffles, wiping at her eyes. She lets out a small giggle and swallows, relieved that everything has been coming up in her favour, even if it didn't start out that way.

"It's okay dear, you cry as much as you can."

She talks a little more about each individual part of the scan, including how big the baby is, how much it's moving, which isn't that much as she's so early into the pregnancy, and then they estimate when she'll start to feel the full force of the pregnancy. Then Marie finishes up with the eight most reassuring words Jess could ever hear.

"You have a very healthy baby, Miss Day."

"Thank you." Jess chokes, unable to stop herself from smiling.

Once the sheets are disposed of and Jess' skin is cleared from the gel, they return to where they'd been sitting when she arrived and Marie pulls up a whole bunch of records that Jess strains to see thanks to the angle the computer is turned at.

"Now Jess." Suddenly her tone becomes a lot more serious. Jess tenses up a little, still riding a high from the ultrasound, but she knows exactly what the next topic of conversation is going to be and she can already feel her happiness slipping away from her.

"Your medical records state you suffered a miscarriage in your second trimester of your last pregnancy. Now, because of this, I'm aware that this is a very difficult time for you and I'm sure you don't want to have to go through all of this worrying about it all happening again."

Jess feels her throat tighten. She nods and lets her head drop a little.

"Your doctor from your previous pregnancy and I spoke a few days ago just after you made the appointment. As you know, all information from your records needs to be forwarded during times like these, just for safety precautions."

__She taps her pen on the desk and briefly assesses the files in front of her. The atmosphere suddenly becoming much colder and unwelcoming, and Jess just wants to flea and run into Nick's arms and cry tears of joy and sadness for an eternity. She doesn't _want_ to go back to the loft, but she needs to see Nick, if only to seek out comfort. The comfort that Cece can't give.

"And we decided that it would be best for you if you attended the psychologist here in the hospital, just to clear your thoughts. From what I've seen today, you've got a lot going on up there." She gestures to Jess' head and Jess stays frozen in her position, unable to find words other than 'Yes' and 'Okay.'

"Would you be up for doing that?"

"I… um…"

She bites her lower lip and runs a hand through her hair. She isn't sure what she wants, specifically, other than to escape this place. Before she'd come in she'd anticipated talks of professional help and had made a point to say she didn't think she needed it, but now she's not so sure.

"Can I get back to you on that? I just, I'm kind of all over the place right now."

The nurse purses her lips and taps her pen against the palm of her left hand.

"How about this." She begins, looking directly at Jess. "Why don't you go to one session and see how you feel after that. I'll talk it up to the psychologist and you won't have to pay a penny until you know what you want to do."

Jess decides that it would probably seem ungrateful to turn down something millions of people wish they'd be given each day, but at the same time she feels cornered without any options. She nods in agreement finally, and Marie clasps her hands together and gives a very enthusiastic 'Great!' She then writes out the number of the Mental Health ward and gives her a note with the psychologists name on it.

"Ask for Robert O'Lachlan and then it'll be settled from there." She smiles.

Jess assumes this means time up for her once she takes the piece of paper and slips it into her wallet between her credit and library cards.

"Well Jess, it I can tell it is a pleasure to have you as a patient! If you have any concerns at all before we next see each other, don't hesitate to call." Marie smiles once again, for about the millionth time, and stands up, outstretching an arm to shake hands with Jess. Jess willingly accepts, but makes sure to ask the all-important question before they part ways until her next appointment.

"Marie." She chokes, keeping on hand on her abdomen and the other at her side. "Would it be possible for me to get a copy of the sonogram? Just for the baby's father."

And of course, the peppy nurse has absolutely no issues with this and fumbles around with the machine after asking Jess if she'd like Nick's name included on it, which she does. Jess is made to wait on the mint-green chairs in the waiting room, slowly coming to terms with the whole moment and feeling her excitement build back up as she rubs her tummy, silently whispering down at it. Now that she can relax, knowing her baby is healthy so far, she feels the maternal connection begin to build up.

* * *

Marie comes padding back ten minutes later in her white nurse's shoes with a little yellow card-type frame and the picture of the twelve-week sonogram, complete with the date of the appointment and Jess and Nick's names written in neat script beneath it.

Jess stands for a little while, staring down at it and taking in the sight. It all feels coldly familiar, but this time it feels different. This time, she has Nick, even if she stormed out on him, and she isn't on her own.

She thanks Marie and hugs her goodbye, and begins walking slowly down the hallway, smiling down at the little token of significance held at her fingertips. She pushes through double doors, never fully looking up and only doing so whenever she senses someone coming at her in the other direction. She still feels like she's dreaming. It all seems so perfect, and so much nicer than ten years ago. She doesn't feel as empty, or as though she's lying to herself. This all feels right and now she finally understands all those documentaries about new mothers and how rewarding being a mother is. She has a strong urge to skip the rest of the way out, but even she knows the boundaries when it comes to behaviour in places like this.

She enters out into the main entrance, still keeping a keen focus on the sonogram, when she feels herself collide with something that isn't a wall, but a person. She steps back, startled, and mumbles a quiet but polite 'sorry' and starts to walk again, until she looks up. And there he is. Standing with a goofy grin on his face, his hands shoved deep into his pockets and his flannel unbuttoned at the top.

Nick.

"Hi sweetheart." He says softly, boring his dark brown eyes into hers. She stands frozen still for a few seconds, her lips slightly parted. She tightens her grip on the picture and then lunges forward into his arms, wrapping hers firmly around his waist and burying her face into his shirt, cherishing his warmth as he pulls her in tightly, planting a kiss on the top of her head and resting his chin in the same spot.

"I'm so sorry, Nick." She sobs, her words muffled. "I love you so much and I feel so terrible for not telling you about this."

He shushes her and pulls her back to face him, wiping away her tears with the side of his thumb. Her eyes sparkle in the faint glimmer of sunlight spilling through the windows in the roof and they have a sense of relief awash in the icy blue of her irises.

"Our baby's healthy." She smiles, choking out her words as though she's hearing them for the first time.

He beams down at her and she hands him the sonogram, laughing against her breaths as she sees his eyes light up with joy at the miraculous sight.

He glances up at her and smiles, and then he joins in with her laughter and pulls her back in, meeting his lips with hers as they lose themselves in the euphoria of the moment, the events of the morning slowly being discarded through the intense emotion of the present.

_This time will be different._


	21. Chapter 21

**_I wasn't going to continue with this story, but some people have been asking of it and I really feel awful just abandoning it. It feels wrong at heart since I have got more plans for it. Hopefully you'll bear with me, and I know you all have despite this being a very OOC New Girl fanfic. Thank you for being so compliant!_**

**_So I've found a question I think some people will have about this chapter, and I completely understand why one would ask this question, so I shall relieve you of the bother of typing it out and just give you the answer now, blunt with no reading between the lines._**

**_Q. Why are we skipping ahead when there's so much to deal with in the months past? _**

**_A. I made the mistake of starting another fanfiction thinking I'd have all this time left, but alas, school starts in just over a month and I genuinely won't have a lot of time to be writing fanfiction as I will have to dedicate my writing skills to Honours English and History. I also have a few ideas I want to execute before school begins and want to hurry it up a little without completely ruining the plot line by rushing through it. There are many events to come that I shall be dealing with and I think it's just going to come out as empty and with many holes in the plot if I try to fit everything from each month of her pregnancy in. Also, it would mean I'd be typing up a lot of useless stuff that I haven't got many ideas for instead of proceeding with the actual story. I can't afford to be wasting time. I may write a sub-fic for you all if you would like some one-shots in between those months if I have enough time maybe this midterm, but I doubt anyone actually cares. _**

**_I'm going to shut up now._**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own New Girl or any of the characters._**

* * *

_~Four Months Later~_

_They couldn't have kept Jess' pregnancy from the guys any longer. At the beginning of her third month, there was no concealing her ever-growing bump and unexplainable mood-swings that she'd so often put down to PMS. They'd began to question her, and Schmidt had even suggested that she cut down on the pie making since it seemed to be taking a toll on her metabolism, and for her, that was the final straw. She had to tell them. _

_Winston invited Daisy over, as Schmidt had with Cece, and they'd spent the night talking about everything and anything. The three girls gossiped about whatever drama or scandals had been happening in the news recently, and Jess exchanged cupcake recipes with Daisy after she'd admitted to being a self-confessed baking addict._

_For the occasion, Jess had put on a black knee-length dress with a white bow tied at the back and a white peter-pan collar. Since she'd bought it, Nick had always favoured it over her other dresses and beamed when she stepped out of her room, graced in the black fabric and her hair pinned back into a high ponytail with bouncing curls at the tips._

_"Am I a lucky man or what?" He'd said to Winston, who was far too busy texting Daisy._

_They'd told them in the middle of a nice Italian dinner prepared so graciously by Jess and Cece, and Schmidt spat his wine out everywhere, spoiling the garlic bread with a blood-red stain upon hearing the news. Cece'd rolled her eyes and told him to get over it, but had apparently misread him since he was the first one to stand up and propose a toast to the couple in question, ecstatic that now Nick finally had a responsibility he can't back out of. Nick took it as a compliment either way, and the night ended on a light note, with Nick a little tipsy and very hands-on as he couldn't seem to keep his hands off of Jess, and not in a fixed sexual way either. He'd constantly cooed about how excited he is to raise a beautiful baby with such a beautiful woman, and she'd blushed and he'd kissed her lightly on the lips. The others, who'd normally have been tense and awkward given any other situation, simply watched on in awe. There was no question of their argument a few weeks back, and they'd all decided to keep it that way. From here on out, anything that she wanted to be between her and Nick, was kept between her and Nick, and they were all happy to continue on as usual, fussing over the two and exciting over all of the things they have to look forward to once the baby is born._

* * *

Jess lies underneath Nick's arm while he plays with the tips of her hair. Her bump has grown considerably bigger, as is to be expected, and she shifts in her spot a lot, finding it difficult to get in a comfortable position.

"Ugh, I don't think I've been able to stay still for about two hours. Can you get my water for me?"

"Jess, you can reach ten centimetres in front of you."

"I know…" She pouts and glances up at him, her blue eyes pleading with him. "But I don't want to."

Nick leans forward and hands the semi-full glass to Jess, returning his arm across her shoulder and averting his gaze to the movie playing on the television.

"You're really taking advantage of this pregnancy thing, aren't you Jess?" Schmidt says accusingly as he packs away the weekly groceries. Nick shoots him a warning glare and he throws his hands up in defence, smirking a little as he turns to load the many cartons of milk into the fridge.

Jess rolls her eyes and takes a sip from her glass, grimacing at the suddenly warm temperature of the water.

"Why do things have to get warm?"

"Well, you complain when your tea gets cold."

"But when it's tea you can add hot water to it." She argues. "When it's water you have to go pour it down the sink and refill it. It's such a waste."

There's a brief pause.

"You could add ice."

She tilts her head to look at him and purses her lips. "Good point."

She hands her glass to Nick and smiles innocently up at him, to which he shakes his head and takes it from her, setting it back down in its original spot. She then wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his chest, burying her face in her thick curly locks.

"I'm sleepy." She yawns, nudging him slightly.

"You gonna fall asleep here? With Schmidt doing his thing over there."

She nods and shuts her eyes. "I'm gonna fall asleep here with Schmidt doing his thing over there." She mumbles.

"You sure you don't wanna go to your room?"

"I'm sure." She asserts. "Now let me sleep."

And so Nick lets her sleep, gazing down at her as she falls into a deep slumber almost immediately. He pulls the blanket from the back of the couch and drapes it over her, tucking it in under his legs to hold it in place. He plants a gentle kiss atop her forehead and turns down the volume on the T.V, much to Schmidt's dismay.

"Hey man I was listening to that."

"Don't care, Jess is trying to sleep."

He scoffs and throws a single grape from the bunch at Nick's head. Nick flinches and glares back at him, but Schmidt's found entertainment elsewhere in the form of some whole-bran cereal.

"Idiot." He mumbles irately.

* * *

The guys and Jess decide to go for a walk around some of L.A's less tourist-packed parks for the afternoon once Jess wakes up and changes out of her pyjamas. The cool October air forces her into a large dark red pea-coat fastened with Celtic designed gold buttons and Nick finally wears something a little more heat insulating than his flimsy maroon hoodie. Sure, it's L.A, but this winter had proved to be that of a bitter one.

Just before she fastens her coat, Nick bends down to her bump and waves at it. "Bye-bye baby, Mommy's locking you away in that big coat of hers Daddy thinks she spent way too much on." He coos in a playful voice. Jess raises an eyebrow, not expecting such an out of character gesture from Nick, but she gives him a small smile and a peck on the cheek.

"You're such teddy bear, Miller." She begins on the buttons and then points a finger at him. "And this coat was reduced from eighty dollars to fifty-three. Don't tell me that isn't a bargain."

"Not when we've got a nursery to build and a third mouth to feed." He teases.

"Shut up and see if my collar is caught up at the back."

He rolls his eyes as she turns and he gives her the all clear after pulling her hood out from where the collar had hidden it.

Winston hovers by the door and Schmidt taps his foot impatiently as they emerge from Nick's room.

"We good to go?" Winston asks. "All five of us?"

"Five of us?"

"Jess, I don't know if you're aware of this, but there's a person growing inside of you and I think it'd be pretty offended if we didn't acknowledge it as one of us."

Jess beams and places a hand on her bump. "That's so cute, Winston." She turns to Nick and nudges him softly. "Take notes, Nick."

Winston gives Nick a victorious grin and Nick shakes his head, his expression screaming sarcasm as he smiles back at him. Schmidt ushers them out the door and they start off towards the elevator, Schmidt complaining about how they've only got a mere two hours of daylight left before winter's effects on the sun start setting in.

* * *

They stroll through a quaint little park with white-columned bandstands and floral decorations on almost every section of the grounds. There's a little fountain at the centre of the park which seems to be the hotspot for couples, families and photographers who cherish the late October sunlight against the glistening water of this scenic fountain. Jess stops the guys repetitively to talk to dog-walkers with small Beagles and Toy-Poodles about how much she admires the little plaid coats their owners picked out for them to keep them warm during their walks in the winter months. She then goes on to ask the guys about getting a dog, and they're all quick to respond with negatives.

"We've already got to give up our time to one tiny being, we don't need two on our hands." Nick says, gently patting Jess' bump.

"What about when the baby gets older?"

"Only if you and Nick plan on moving out because I'm not too sure Remy would approve of a dog stinking the place up."

"I think ninety percent of the people in our loft have pets, Schmidt."

"And I would rather not be the apartment that makes that ninety-one."

"You're such a downer." Jess sighs, hitting Schmidt on the arm.

* * *

A few minutes later, Winston's coffee-deprived state is drawn to the attention of a little kiosk a small distance from them and he forces Schmidt, being the only one who'd thought to bring money, to accompany him. Nick and Jess wait for them on a bench that isn't riddled with sun-dried chewing gum remnants stuck to the seats.

"Oh right, before I forget, we've got a doctor's appointment in the morning so you need to be up before nine."

He groans and throws his head back. "Why do you book these appointments so damn early? I don't function well before noon."

"Well, get used to it because we've got many more early mornings ahead of us." She smiles innocently, placing a hand on his knee. "And I happen to think that you look your best when you're tired. I like your bed-head. It's fun to ruffle."

"Please don't ruffle my hair."

"I do it every morning, Miller, you're just too conked out to notice."

Nick frowns. He gives her a mischievous smirk and meets her eyes with his, leaning forward as though he's about to kiss her. Her eyes go wide as he his lips near hers, but instead of meeting them, he surprises her by delving his hand into her thick masses of dark curls and tousles it as his revenge. She bats his hand away and arches her back, turning her face from him.

"What the hell Nick? That was uncalled for." She giggles, patting her hair down.

"I think it was pretty called for." He defends.

"For that." She smiles, tapping him on the nose playfully. "You're getting up an hour early so you can see what I have to deal with when it comes to this." She directs to her hair.

He grins and leans back, folding his arms. "Fine, but I'm taking a nap when we get home from the doctor's."

"Fine."

"Fine."

* * *

Winston returns with Schmidt a little while after, carrying a to-go coffee cup. Schmidt had opted for water, saying that throwing dirt in lukewarm water was the equivalent of kiosk coffee and its empty taste.

They stroll down by the fountain, Jess walks close enough to Nick so that they bump off each other every so often. They talk about nothing really all that interesting besides work and Jess' maternity leave.

They pass two couples with young kids and Jess squeezes Nick's arm with a bright smile on her face as his eyes meet hers. She's been able to relax a little bit and enjoy this miraculous life event as it comes without worrying too much about the worst possible outcomes she'd been so terrified of into her second month. Nevertheless, she's still been pretty precautious and has cut out a lot of foods from her diet. Despite her doctor giving her the go-ahead to drink tea and wavering off all of her concerns about caffeine, she hasn't had Nick make her a cup of coffee or tea in almost seven months.

However, after a very persistent talk with Cece, Jess has agreed to go the psychologist at the clinic just as a safety net. Also, Nick doesn't make for a very good advice-giver, and frankly, she doesn't want to have to put that pressure on him now that he's picked up two extra shifts at the bar to save up enough money for their baby's nursery. Although he isn't great at being serious with her, he's definitely good at providing sufficient cuddles twenty-four/seven, and that's the most she could ever ask of him.

Which brings them to their next topic of conversation.

"So who's room is the baby getting?" Winston asks, taking a sip from his cup.

Nick and Jess exchange a look of equal undecidedness and shrug.

"We have no idea." Jess says, pursing her lips.

"Not in the slightest." Nick adds.

"Well, it's not getting my room." Schmidt asserts. "All that spit-up on my CK suits, I think I'd have an aneurism."

"Not to mention the baby: You listening Schmidt? Baby, not 'it,' would probably suffocate underneath all of your overpriced colognes."

"Have you forgotten, Nicholas, the autumn of '06 when you borrowed said overpriced cologne to impress Caroline on your first date?"

"I do."

"And how did the night go for you?"

Nick hesitates and looks briefly at Jess, who seems extremely uninterested in the direction of this conversation.

"I got laid." He spits out.

"That you did, Nick. That you did."

"But guys, seriously, you've got less than three months to prepare for this kid, have you got any game plan for the nursery?" Winston continues. "Because it's a little concerning that Schmidt and I are more worried for the baby than you guys are."

"I am plenty worried for this baby, Winston." Nick argues.

"So let's discuss nurseries. We may as well, we're all here. We've got the fresh air to keep us alert. Speak to me, daddy."

"Don't call me daddy, that's super creepy." Nick says, grimacing at his friend's unusual choice of words.

"Come on, Nick, we have to live with the kid too. Our say is just as important as yours."

"Even though you guys had no part in the process of making said kid?"

"Even so."

Jess glances up at him, her eyes wide with excitement as though she'd been waiting for this moment forever.

"We may as well." She whispers. "If we wait any longer, before we know it the baby will be here and sleeping in between you and me rather than in a designated crib."

Nick nods and considers the situation.

"I for one think it should be Jess' room. It's cleaner and has those huge windows." Schmidt chimes in, looking out into the far distance of the park.

"He's got a point." She says. "Would we keep the walls blue?"

"Why does that concern you?" He asks, looking down at her with a furrowed brow.

"Well, if it's a boy I don't want people to think we're conforming to gender roles."

"I really don't think it matters, Jess." Nick says, patting her on the back.

"I've always liked pastel yellow for nurseries. It's such an easy colour to match."

"But it's also really good for staining. God forbid someone lean up against it, the entire wall just turns into a weird mixture of yellow and whatever colour dust is."

"That's not how it works, Nick, have no concept of home maintenance." Schmidt asks as though it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Clearly I don't."

"So we've decided Jess' room?" Winston asks, interjecting back into the actual basis of the conversation.

"I guess so. I don't really mind so long as it looks nice."

"So Jess' room."

She pauses for a brief moment and glances up at Nick.

"My room."

Nick shoves his free hand into his pocket and wraps the other tighter around Jess, pulling her close to him.

"Now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk sleep."

"Go ahead." Jess says.

"Will I get any?" He replies sarcastically.

She scoffs and gently slaps his face with the back of her hand.

"Ask a real question, dummy."

"Why is everyone calling me names today?"

"Because you're an easy target for name-calling. Now can we sit down or go home because my feet hurt and this guy is kicking my spleen like he's trying to break out early." She places a hand on her bump and lets out a deep breath to back her words up. She's lost so much of her usual energy thanks to the baby draining all of it from her and using it for themselves. She'd been forewarned about the fluid retention and her feet swelling, but she'd never thought it so bad that a simple walk would prove to be extremely straining.

For the most part, Jess had been pretty self-sufficient with everything. She'd happily have gone places without Nick being there and she rarely needed him to help her with everything. She's pregnant, not dying. Except now, into her sixth month, she's been relying on him a lot to help her out with laundry and other chores. She doesn't like to admit it, but it's sort of nice having someone there to help her out.

The sun is starting to set, tinting the sky a gentle pinkish-orange and creating a silver lining around the clouds. Some of the families have headed off home, and the cool air has descended to a still breeze and Jess rests her head on Nick's shoulder, plunging her hands deep into her pockets as a means of keeping them warm. They agree to start off home, since the park has become pretty mundane now that all the dog-owners have left to escape the impending chill of nightfall.

* * *

Nick spends the rest of the evening talking to Jess' bump as they lie in bed. Jess is reading a copy of _F. Scott Fitzgerald's, This Side of Paradise_ as he does so, smiling from behind the pages of her book, her glasses just barely balancing on the tip of her nose. Her hair is tied back into a ponytail and she's wearing one of Nick's grey pyjama tops with _Varsity_ printed across the chest. He smiles up at her, his hand resting on her bump, and he plants a soft kiss on it.

"I don't know whether to be scared or really happy about this." She smiles, speaking in low key.

"About the baby or the book?" He asks with a smirk.

She places her bookmark between the pages and sets it down on her nightstand, propping herself up on her elbows as she leans to the side.

"About you talking to my belly in such a high pitched voice."

He sits up close to her and she brushes a strand of hair from his forehead.

"I'm happy about all of them though."

"I wish we didn't have to wait any longer."

Jess looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

"That's easy for you to say, you're not the one who has to endure hour after hour of searing pain. I'm perfectly okay with waiting."

Nick huffs and tilts his head. "_After_ that."

She smiles, her cheeks blushing very slightly at his affection. She admittedly is a little scared about the next few months of her pregnancy. Anything is still possible, even if everything has been going smoothly so far. She'd passed the five month mark where everything went wrong last time, and her doctor had declared that everything about her baby is spiffingly healthy and normal. She'd taken it as a sign from above that this time was going to be so much brighter and happier than the last, and so she'd tried to maintain a cheery attitude, which has come relatively easy to her.

She's happy, she's excited, and she's a tad nervous about it all, but of course any new mother is going to be nervous. She has Nick, and she has amazing friends, and that's more than enough to keep her going.

He looks over at the closed book and points towards it. "What's the book about?"

She bites her lip and shakes her head a little, her ponytail swinging daintily as she moves.

"It's about a man who falls in love with a woman, who then gets sent out to war during World War One, gets sent home and falls in love with another woman, but the second woman marries another man because Amory, the main character, is poor."

"That's a dick move."

"Tell that to Rosalind." She smiles.

After a brief pause, and the exchange of tired, yet longing looks, Jess cups Nick's face with one hand and moves slowly in, meeting her lips with his. It's gentle, delicate, but passionate, and lasts for just a few seconds, but it's fulfilling. She lays down, and he mimics her, both of them lying facing each other.

"I love you." She whispers, her sleep-filled blue eyes boring deeply into his chocolate browns. She slips her palms under her cheek and moves a little closer to him.

"I love you too, Jess." He replies softly, returning a shorter, lighter kiss to her lips. "I'll see you two in the morning."

She giggles and pulls her comforter to her chin as she rests her head on the pillow.

"Goodnight love."

She yawns and shuts her eyes, the smile failing to desert her lips.

"Goodnight."


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: I do not own New Girl or any of the characters.**

* * *

They go baby shopping. Except they don't go baby shopping on purpose, it just happens one day whilst they're out in the city-centre and somehow there are a lot more baby stores and departments than they'd ever noticed. Jess had called it 'pregnancy-goggles', and then she'd dragged him into loads of different clothes stories looking for baby-grows.

"Jess, how are we going to buy clothes if we don't even know what the baby is yet?"

"We can just buy gender-neutral clothes. We can worry about the gender-conforming clothes later on. Maybe when he or she's old enough to fit into cute little baby overalls."

"You are not dressing our kid in overalls. I don't want people thinking we have no concept of fashion."

"Since when did you care about fashion?"

"I don't, I just don't want our kid wearing overalls."

She rolls her eyes and browses through a rack of plain-white new born baby grows with a little patchwork of a sheep on the front. She holds it up to Nick and asks his opinion, and he nods his head in approval.

"It's cute. And it's not overalls. It works."

It suddenly all becomes real to him as she throws a little collection of baby grows, each with different animals printed on the front, that this is happening. He's going to be a _father._ This is something he can't run away from, no matter how much he thinks he wants to. This isn't like a book he can shy away from writing, and procrastinate by watching some old clips of football games. He isn't going to be able to let the baby cry in its bassinette while he catches up on sports highlights. It's equally terrifying and exciting. And it sort of motivates him to actually help look for clothes with Jess rather than stand around waiting for her to ask of his approval.

In the time that he gets this surge of motivation, he picks out a little white hat with two mini bunny ears sticking out from the top. At first, he'd grimaced at it and passed it off as being too extravagant and unnecessary for a baby, but then the thought of seeing his son or daughter, dressed up in such an adorable little piece, he'd brought it to Jess and she'd clasped her hands together and cooed, saying that they'd definitely have to get it. He also finds a blanket with patchwork, to which Jess had deemed 'very vintage' and gave him a kiss on the cheek for being so enthusiastic about it all.

And thus, they'd returned home with baby grows, a blanket, a bunny-ears hat, and one-hundred and fifteen dollars less.

They make a note to start buying supplies for the nursery, and arrange a date to start moving things from Jess' room to start fitting in the crib and changing tables that they'd bought a little while back thanks to a generous donation from Schmidt. Jess also sends an email to her mom in Oregon to bring down some of her old stuffed toys for the baby, so that they don't have to spend countless amounts of cash on overly priced teddy bears and the like.

It all becomes very chaotic very fast, and it's probably one of the most petrifying things Nick has ever had to deal with. Alas, seeing that bright smile on Jess' face every time she looks in the mirror makes all of the chaos completely, one-hundred percent, worth it.

* * *

**~Three Weeks Later~**

"You still going to the bar tonight?" Jess asks, twirling her spoon in her half-empty bowl of milk.

Nick, taking a sip from his coffee cup, gives her a small nod and glances over at her.

"You done with that?" He asks, gesturing to the bowl.

She sucks some wheat remnants from her teeth and pushes it towards him.

"I think the dishwasher's full. I'll clean up once I get dressed. What time are you leaving at?"

He places the bowl beside the small pile of clutter that had built up since the morning and returns to his seat, looking up at the clock adjacent to the two. "About three." He clicks his tongue off the roof of his mouth and places a hand briefly on her forearm. "You gonna be okay here with Winston?"

She smiles curtly. "I don't hate Winston, Nick. I think I'll be fine. Anyway, it's about time we got to bond a little without you other clowns around."

"I don't know that you want to spend too much time around him, Jess. He tends to get very deep whenever he's left alone with another person. One time he started crying because life didn't make sense to him. Took me two days to get him out of his room."

"I'm guessing this was in college? Everything seems more daunting in college."

He downs the rest of his coffee and shakes his head. "Actually, no it was like a week or two before you moved in."

She blinks once and purses her lips. "And on that note, I'm going to shower and get dressed."

Nick sighs and puts his cup on the side of the sink with Jess' bowl. She turns on her heel and looks back over her shoulder before she gets to the living room. "Problem Nicholas?"

He pauses for a moment and gives her a look of disappointment mixed with mischief.

"I just miss the days when we could shower together." He jokes, followed by a slight laugh.

She shrugs and grins. "Well, showering together is what got us into this mess."

He chuckles and bunches up a napkin, launching it at her. "I think you'll find the shower had no part in this. Don't go blaming the shower."

"Whatever." She chimes, padding off in the direction of the bathroom.

* * *

Jess sits on Nick's bed, admiring him from afar as he tries on a myriad of shirts and jeans for his night out. It's one of the first times she's seen him putting in actual effort for something he isn't being forced to attend, and there's no way she's letting him get away with it without her on-hand to both witness and to have the story fresh and vivid in her mind to tell the others once they get home.

"Nick, your collar's caught up at the back. You can see your tie."

He reaches behind him and glances at her. "No one's going to care, Jess."

"Don't make me go over there and redress you." She teases. "Because believe me, I will."

"I know you will, that's why I begged you not to come in here."

"And miss this momentous occasion? I don't think so."

She scoots off the bed, stumbling a little as she finds her feet. She now shares a centre of gravity, so it's becoming a more and more difficult task for her to stand still without the impending risk of falling forward, should she fall a little off balance.

"Now let me at this thing."

He groans, but lets her fix up his collar and tie, and then she makes her away around to his front, meeting her eyes with his and giving him a little smile.

"And now to fix this tie." She beams, taking hold of black strip of fabric. "What would you do without me?"

"Jess, it's going to be dark at the bar, no one's going to notice that my tie's not straight."

She shoots him a warning glare as she tugs on his tie, adjusting it around the collar. Once she's satisfied, she places both palms on his chest and pats it slightly.

"Well don't you look dapper, my little businessman. Now all you need is a spritz of cologne and you're free to go."

"It's a work party, Jess. I'd hardly call it a business venture. Plus, cologne doesn't fly well when it's mixed with tequila and bar sweat."

She tilts her head and pouts, her eyes twinkling against the dim sunlight shining in through Nick's window.

"I know it doesn't." She runs a finger down along the side of his face and runs a hand through his hair, careful not to mess it up too much. "But I like it when you smell like an Italian lifeguard."

"Italian lifeguard? Isn't a one-eighth Cherokee lifeguard just as good?"

"Shut up and put the cologne on, Miller." She asserts, making her way back to his bed.

He takes one last look in the mirror and joins her, sliding up beside her and lying on his side in order to be better engaged in conversation.

"So two months left." He starts, smiling up at her. "I gotta say, Jess, I'm getting a little nervous."

She frowns and starts running a hand through his hair once again, except this time not really caring about ruining it. He can brush it back anyway, but for now she can't get enough of how soft Schmidt's conditioner has made it.

"Why are you nervous?"

He sighs. "I just really hope I don't end up like my dad, y'know?

She looks at him lovingly, and full of sympathy for him. She'd always known of his fears of turning into Walt, but at times like these, when little bits of him chip off and he crumbles beneath her as he lets his worries out, she really and truly believes he wants nothing more than to turn out to be a better father than his own.

She cups his cheek in her hand and runs her thumb along the apple, tilting her head.

"Nick, you're nothing like your dad. I admit at first, I was nervous. After you got really pissed off after I told you about the pregnancy I started to have my doubts. I started to think you wouldn't be able to handle it and that you'd run away. But then you came to the clinic and I saw the excitement in your eyes, the one that you kept locked away for so long when you looked at me. You _wanted_ to be there. And from that moment on, I knew my doubts about you were wrong."

He lets out a little chuckle and gives her a soft smile. She gives him a gentle kiss on the cheek and leans down to rest her head on his chest.

"You're going to be a perfect dad."

He returns her kiss, pressing his lips atop her head. He wraps his arms around the top of her bump and she sighs a little.

"And you're going to be a perfect mom."

* * *

"You want popcorn, Jess?" Winston calls from the kitchen as he takes the freshly popped kernels from the microwave.

She glances over her shoulder at him, her glasses balancing at the tip of her nose.

"Is it salted?"

"Well." He checks the bag. "I'm going to salt mine, but I can put yours in a separate bowl."

"If it's not too much trouble."

He nods and turns back while she fast-forwards through the ads on the _Forrest Gump_ DVD.

It's only five twenty-seven, but since Winston and Jess are alone until Schmidt comes home at nine, they've decided to squeeze in a much needed old-classic movie night that they're constantly denied the chance of having. Normally, she'd be huddled up under Nick's arm, on the verge of falling asleep whenever she watches movies, but this time, her soft pink blanket and her parrot-print PJs will have to suffice.

"Here we go. One unsalted popcorn for you, and wonderful, heavily salted popcorn with a slight chance of cardiac arrest for me."

He sets the two bowls down in front of her, and she reaches out to take some, but a sudden thought crosses her mind and she pulls back, staring at the blue bowl.

"Winston?"

"Hmm?"

"Is this microwaved?"

He glances at her with a raised eyebrow. "Jess, you saw me taking it out of the microwave."

She hesitates and pushes the bowl back, much to Winston's discontent.

"Is there a problem with microwaved popcorn?"

She places her hands on her knees and purses her lips, rocking gently as she tries to summon a response that doesn't sound ungrateful or obsessive.

"No, it's just… I read an article online about microwaved popcorn having all sorts of chemicals and about the microwaves being harmful to a growing foetus."

He rolls his eyes and she shoots him an innocent smile. "I just don't wanna take any risks with only two months to go."

"Well, next time make your own damn popcorn." He groans, leaning back into the couch with his own bowl resting on his lap. She presses play on the remote and nurses her cup of tea as she curls up beneath her blankets and rests her head on the cool leather of the couch.

They sit in silence as Tom Hanks' Southern-ish voice plays on through the speakers of the T.V and scenes from Forrest's childhood flash up on screen. Twenty minutes in and Winston's already eaten through half the bowl of popcorn and has set it down on the coffee table, complaining of his mouth being dry, which he aids by taking about four measly sips of his beer. He's a pretty good substitute for Nick, since they hold their Heislers the same and they each eat like bears when given the chance.

A little while later, he decides to spark up random conversation to Jess' dismay. One of her pet peeves is people talking during movies, and she is more than not in the mood for that to be brought to light since her hormones have been making an appearance a hell of a lot stronger recently.

"So, two months huh?"

"That is correct." She nods, keeping her focus on the television.

"You two kids excited?"

She glances over at him briefly and gives him a thumbs up. "As excited as we can be for early mornings and sleepless nights."

"Isn't that what you two did before?" He asks, a slight hesitation laced in his words.

She glares at him and he widens his eyes, resting back into his seat and avoiding direct eye contact.

"I'm just saying, it's not like you two were very discreet about it."

"Shut up." She growls through gritted teeth.

"When's your due date again?"

She stares into space for a moment, drawing a blank. She'd never really been listening to all of that stuff, so long as the doctor had clarified everything had been normal.

"Somewhere around the beginning of February… I think."

"Better get working on that nursery then." He continues.

Jess rolls her eyes and picks a piece of popcorn from the bowl, flicking it at him.

"Be quiet so we can finish the movie."

He chuckles and slings his arm across the back of the couch, kicking his feet out in front of him and crossing over his ankles.

* * *

The bar is pretty packed full of bartenders and other staff for the early-Christmas work party. So far, Nick's been staying fairly clean of alcohol so he can drive home, and to be honest, this isn't exactly his scene. He isn't one for extravagant parties with dumb streamers and Christmas lights that should not be up mid-November. He's been hiding out in a booth with his phone, nonchalantly texting Jess so his other colleagues don't deem him as being antisocial as they had pinned him earlier on in his job.

He hadn't understood the concept of 'workers only', since there are only a handful people actually working at the bar. The evening had been awkward, especially since they had to have the party earlier on in the day so the bar could run as business as usual by eight thirty. It's already hanging on by a thread, it can't afford a decline in customers now.

As Nick wallows away in his little corner, Big Bob approaches him with a tray of drinks, mostly liquor and Heislers. Nick slips his phone into his pocket upon seeing him and shoots him a smile, enough to make him think that he's been having a good time.

"Hey Nick. Haven't seen you all night." He sets the tray down and takes a seat opposite him. "Brought you some drinks."

"Thanks Bob, that's really nice of ya. I'm driving though."

"Ah come on, there's still two hours left of this thing. One Heisler isn't gonna hurt you."

"I know but-."

It doesn't take long for the one spec of interest over Nick's side of the bar drives another colleague to the table, only this time, it just so happens to be the one person Nick had prayed wouldn't show up on account of the awkward encounter that had taken place a few years ago: Shane.

"Hey Bob, hey Nick. You guys enjoying the party?" She asks, sliding beside Nick into the booth, spilling a few drops of her cocktail onto the dark fabric of Nick's jeans.

"It's alright I guess." Nick says, avoiding looking directly at her, since he'd never actually explained why he'd fled after Jess that one night. Surely, she'd have forgotten about it, or more likely just doesn't care anymore, but Nick isn't one to leave people high and dry. And he certainly isn't one to be confronted about moments that put him at fault.

"I agree. I don't know why they keep doing this, it's just gets worse every year." She smiles, her diamond earrings dangling and creeping out through her curled strands of hair. "But at least we get free drinks, right?"

Nick nods and reaches forward to the tray of drinks, knowing damn well he's going to need something to soften up his bitterness before he says something completely out of order. Anyway, it's not like two hours isn't enough time to let the alcohol wear off.

"So Nick, word on the street is that Jess has a bun in the oven." Bob says suddenly.

Nick, who's halfway through chugging down a mouthful of beer, almost spit-takes right there and then upon the swift change of subject.

Shane turns to look at Nick, her mouth slightly agape.

"Is that so, Nick?"

"It uh…"

"That's what I heard." Bob cuts in again. "And I saw you guys in the store a few weeks ago. I said to Lucinda '_Either she's been baking more pies than usual or she's pregnant.'_ "

Nick gives him a funny look, a slightly offended one at that, and Bob picks up on it almost immediately.

"I mean, she looked _lovely._ I was just speculating…"

"Yes she's pregnant." Nick finally says in order to stop him from going on any longer.

There's a sudden eruption of cheers from their end of the room as both Shane and Bob give him congratulatory pats on the back. Nick tries his best not to storm off and drive home to avoid any more attention being drawn to them, but instead, decides to stay and embrace this newfound appreciation for him.

"So how far along is she, man? We should throw her a party once she has the kid."

"She's got seven months of baby inside of her." Nick says, and then winces. "Sorry, I meant for that to sound cute but it just ended up sounding really morbid."

Shane downs the last of her drink and turns to face Nick.

"We should play a drinking game to lighten the mood a little." She purrs, her tone slightly devious. "Drink every time this party sucks."

Nick hesitates and shakes his head. "I really can't, Shane, I'm driving and Jess is-."

"Oh come on, just take a cab home. Have a little fun before your freedom's gone."

She waves the bottle of liquor in his face and pulls a tray of shot-glasses towards them. "You know you want to."

Bob eyes him, taking a glass for himself. "You know you want to." He echoes. Shane grins at Bob, and they both turn to Nick, and just as Nick begins to consider the offer to get absolutely wasted, the familiar ring of his phone calls through his jeans pocket, saving him from a potentially awful situation.

The caller I.D sparks interest in him. _Winston B. _

_It's gotta be about Jess. There's no way Winston's calling to check up on me. _

"I've gotta take this guys, I'll be right back."

The two look at him with disappointment. They proceed to pour the liquor into each shot glass, the idea of Nick joining in still a clear possibility in their minds.

* * *

Nick heads out to the entrance to the bar, holding his phone to his ear as he slips out of the completely mundane setting. Once the noise is drowned out by the L.A traffic passing by outside the door, he hears quick breathing and a very panicky Winston, who sounds like he's pacing around the living room.

"Hey Winston, what's going on?"

"Uh…"

"Winston?"

"I think Jess is in labour."

"What do you mean you think Jess is in labour? What's going on there?"

"I don't know man, she said she's getting like… What were they called again Jess?"

Nick rolls his eyes as he awaits his roommate's response. "Contractions, Winston?"

"Yeah those." He huffs. "So, yeah, you've gotta come home."

"Right, yeah I'm on my way. Just, don't move her and make sure she doesn't pass out or anything. Tell her I'll be there soon."

And suddenly everything around him turns into a blur. Any and all sounds around him just fade into nothingness, and he begins to feel exceptionally light headed, almost instantly darting off out of the door into the parking lot as he fishes around in his pocket with his free hand for his keys. He doesn't recall hitting the end-call button, but that doesn't cross his mind, since his car is being difficult with him and won't start. He shoves the key into the ignition again and again, screaming profanity at the hunk of metal.

There is _no_ way he's going to miss this. He'll never be able to forgive himself if he does. And he'll be damned if the mix of adrenaline and panic pulsing through his veins doesn't force the car to start as he slams down on the accelerator relentlessly.

He turns the key once more, praying that the familiar rumble of the gas running into the motor makes itself known, and low and behold, after a few aggressive tries, the engine starts up and he pushes down on the gas, speeding out of the parking lot, dust spurting up from the tyres as it collides with the tarmac of the road.

The city lights zoom past as he rushes home, not caring or paying attention to any road-traffic signs or pedestrians who attempt to cross. He's damn lucky he doesn't get caught by the police either, since he's almost guaranteed to lose his licence at the speed he's going at. The sun is just setting on the horizon in front of him, the sky contrasting into an orange-pink and dark blue, the clouds creating majestic patterns around the huge fiery sphere, casting a long shadow across the streets of L.A. Not that Nick has any time to notice. Right now, his primary focus is getting home to Jess, and getting her straight to hospital.

As he nears the apartment, a few thoughts cross his mind.

They don't have a nursery built yet. They still have to build the crib. They haven't got formula milk ready, and none of Jess' relatives know about it, and there's no way they're getting flights to L.A. at this time of the year.

_It was supposed to be an easy month, man. What the hell kind of cruel fate is this? Why now? Why only a few weeks from Christmas? Cut us some slack, whoever the hell's up there._

* * *

He pulls into his usual spot outside the loft and sprints up to the apartment, not waiting for some elevator to come and allow him up to Jess.

He barges into the room, almost taking the door off its hinges, and is surprised to see that Jess is lying pretty calm on the couch, her feet outstretched and her blanket just covering her torso to her knees.

"Hey Nick." She beams, stretching out her arms to welcome him in with a hug.

"Jess." He breathes, doubling over with his hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. Running is _so_ not his style. "Winston called me. Are you okay? Do you need me to drive you to hospital?"

She stares at him blankly, and then looks over at Winston, who's hiding over in the corner by the fridge.

"Why do I have to go to hospital? Is something wrong?"

"No, Winston told me you were having contractions."

Winston peers out from behind the shelf of spices, creating a divider between him and Nick.

"Oh, hey man." He says quietly. "Yeah, uh… Apparently they weren't _actually_ contractions. They were Haxton Bricks contractions."

"Braxton Hicks." Jess corrects, pointing towards him.

"What does that mean?" He asks, starting to get a little pissed off.

"They're like… fake contractions that make you think you're in labour. They hardly lasted five minutes." She beams, placing a hand on her bump. "We've still got two months yet."

"So I sped here, _risking_ crashing into a pole, while also having a little alcohol in my system? You didn't think to call me once she'd realized, Winston? I could have died out there." He half-shouts.

"Sorry man, I didn't know."

"Damn right you're sorry."

Jess then sits up straight and stares at him. She raises an eyebrow and her expression hardens.

"What do you mean you had alcohol in your system? You risked getting here to see me?"

Nick smiles at her, thinking that this is something he should be proud of. "Yeah, I did. I was worried."

"Why on _earth_ would you do that, Nick? Do you have any idea how much trouble you could have gotten into?

"I…"

"Seriously Nick, what if I _was_ in labour? What if you'd foolishly done all that and crashed into a truck. You'd have risked your life, you'd have risked seeing your _child_ being born, and you'd have risked everything between us."

By now, Winston's scurried off to his room to avoid this definite argument that's about to spark. He's lived through enough of their spats to know when to clear out.

"Jess, I'm sorry. I thought-."

"Well, you thought wrong." She grumbles, sitting up. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Would you like to tell me what exactly you'd been doing at this party that forced you to drink when you _knew_ you'd be driving?"

Nick sighs, completely taken aback by Jess' sudden outburst.

"It was crazy, Jess. Bob came over with drinks and then Shane tried to get us to have a drinking game."

"Shane? Shane, as in the boss' daughter, Shane?" She asks, her voice suddenly jagged and filled with impending anger, threatening to burst at any given moment.

He pauses and tries to find the right words to help heal this situation, but he's already dug himself in pretty deep.

"Jess, nothing happened." He says as calmly as possible, approaching her.

"That's great, Nick. I'm glad you had fun. I'm glad you got to see _Shane_ again. I just really hope that you remembered the fact that you're about to have a baby when _Shane_ influenced you to be so irresponsible. I can't risk having you do that when the baby's born, Nick."

"Jess, you're overreacting. It was literally half a bottle of Heisler, nothing more."

"That's the attitude you have, Nick? I'm expected to be completely careful, I'm supposed to monitor everything I eat, but you can just go off and do whatever the hell you want?"

"I'm sorry, Jess. But I honestly don't know why this is such a big deal."

She slams her pillow down into the couch and stands up, stumbling slightly.

"Whatever Nick. When you figure it out, I'll be at Cece's."

"Jess, come on. Why are you doing this? Don't do this. We can talk about it." He says, stepping in front of the door to stop her from running out.

"You're not wearing the right clothes to be going out."

"Just get out of my way, Nick."

She pulls her coat from the coat rack, feeling a little light headed from standing up so abruptly. She's in no mood to keep arguing with Nick, and she honestly doesn't care that she's still wearing her pyjama pants. She slips into her green flats at the door, and folds her arms, waiting for him to move.

"Jess, please don't do this. Please. I don't like it when you're angry with me."

"Well, you should have thought about that before you told me all about Shane and after you almost drove into the side of the loft."

"I never drove into-."

"Just move Nick!" She screams, feeling tears welling up in her eyes.

He sighs and looks at her, his eyes awash with sadness.

"Are you sure you want to leave right now, Jess?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

He glances at her one last time and steps aside, gesturing towards the door. She mutters an angry 'Thank you', and he stops her, taking hold of her arm and planting a gentle kiss on her temple. She sighs as he pulls away and strains to avoid making eye contact with him.

And so he lets her go, watching her storm off down the hallway, except quite slowly. Even so, it's fast for her given her current state. He watches as she presses the elevator button and adjusts her bag over her shoulder, taking her phone out, presumably to give Cece a heads up about the whole thing. Then she's gone, disappeared behind the closing elevator doors.

Nick throws himself down on the couch, his face buried into her pillow, which smells of her sweet perfume and shampoo. He has no idea how all of this turned out to be his fault, especially since he'd done everything out of sheer concern for Jess.

She'd always been like this though, into her fifth month of her pregnancy, everything and anything had managed to tick her off. This had been the fourth time in three months that she'd stormed out on him, and as the months go on, and her time 'til her due date becomes limited, it gets even scarier for him. She could very easily, by some cruel turn of the universe, go into labour in her car, and he wouldn't know unless she calls him. It's too much for him, but at the same time, she'd always come back, willing to accept his apologies, even if he has nothing to apologize for.

Why on earth would this time be any different?


End file.
